


Just quite human

by Donotmind_mehere



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Drama, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Death, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Awkward Tension, Blackmail, Blood Gulch Chronicles, Break Up, Canon Temporary Character Death, Character Death, Child Neglect, Continuity What Continuity, Cussing, Cyborg Dick Simmons, Dementia, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Light, Drama, Drama & Romance, Dreams and Nightmares, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Dubcon Kissing, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Issues, Fat Shaming, Feelings, Fights, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Gun Violence, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Hurt, Identity Issues, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jealousy, Literal Sleeping Together, Living Together, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Mild Blood, Military Homophobia, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Miscommunication, Non-Graphic Smut, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Dexter Grif, POV Second Person, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Break Up, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Siblings, References to Depression, Romantic Fluff, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sexual Tension, Sibling Love, Siblings, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Sort Of, Suicidal Thoughts, Tension, Threats of Violence, Time Loop, Time Skips, Undressing, Unresolved Romantic Tension, War, but not a lot, but soft, kind of, possibly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donotmind_mehere/pseuds/Donotmind_mehere
Summary: It’s a dance they’re both used to. One step forward, two steps back. Hold my hand but turn your head. I love you. I hate you. You stole my body and I just can’t do this anymore.
Relationships: Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Dexter Grif/Original Character(s), Franklin Delano Donut & Dick Simmons, Franklin Delano Donut/Frank "Doc" DuFresne
Comments: 27
Kudos: 17





	1. Early Days of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And there’s this thing that happens when you love someone it has something to do with your heart but then your heart gets ripped out and somehow, you’re still in love with them.

Flex and release. 

Breath in through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

And repeat. 

You hate Sarge so fucking much.

You hate his voice, you hate his face, and you hate his bullshit plans that make about as much sense as this fucking stalemate. 

You hate this bullshit place the most because if you weren’t here, this wouldn’t have happened.

But it isn’t like you were given a choice.

Not like you were given an option in any of this, not really. 

Flex and release. 

This stupid hand doesn’t feel right. Of course it feels fucked up and of course it feels fake,it isn’t yours, it isn’t  _ real _ ...not in the ways that matter.

Breath in through the nose. 

And of course they’d give your real body parts to Grif of all fucking people in this goddamn canyon!

Out through the mouth. 

Breath, don't lose your cool, just relax, just relax.

You can fix this, you can get past this, it’s going to be okay, just don't lose your cool.

“Hey, Simmons, are you okay?” 

Of fucking course, no one in this place can take a hint and just leave you the fuck alone.

“No, Donut! I’m not okay.”

“Uh do you wan-“

“No i dont want to fucking talk about it, who the fuck would want to talk about becoming a goddamn science experiment?”

Breath.

“It isn’t like this is my body anymore, it isn’t like i can feel my hand anymore, it isn’t like half my vision is so analytical its hard to focus using my other eye, my real fucking eye, you know if you care so much about how i was doing, why did you back out being the base guinea pig. It isn’t-“

He’s crying, god, of course he’s crying.

“Just go away, Donut!” You shout.

And thankfully he does.

Okay, just breath, it’s going to be okay…

In through the nose. 

Our through the mouth, at least the pain as mostly subsided. 

“You didn’t have to explode on him like that, it's not his fault we’re like this.”

God just kill me now, 

“No you’re right, it isn’t his fault.” You begin, and you see the looks on his face morph into confusion but you don’t have time for that, the rage has been bubbling over and you’re failing to turn down the heat. 

“It’s not like he tore my body apart and gave the pieces to  _ you  _ of all people. No, he just let it happen and he just happened to be with you, when you died. It isn’t like there’s some way his dumb ass could have planned all this! It’s all just a big coincidence.” 

You know it isn’t Donut’s fault but right now, you hate everyone including yourself, he’s just an easy target and oddamn it, this breathing exercise isn’t fucking working. 

“You of all people shouldn’t be talking about standing by when it comes to Sarge’s harebrained schemes and it’s not exactly thrilled about almost dying either.” He says cooly, like he planned it, like he knew what you were gonna say. 

And you look up and reach the other pair of eyes as the unset of a headache hits you, this robot eye is going to be the end of you but seeing your real eye on his face just makes it so much worse. 

_ You look like a doll that no one gave shit about,your skin no longer matches, it look like patches, just like your eye and my eye, and you’re lucky Sarge not only brought you back to life using MY organs and parts, you’re lucky he was able to bring you back to normal shape, not that you’ll keep it, you fat ass.  _

You seathwith the rage and you wonder if he can tell how much new pain has nestled itself beside the old and how much it’s weighing you down.

You don’t want to say it. You want to say it. But you don’t say it because that would be cruel, even for you and he’s staring at you and you just want him to go away forever. 

And you just want him to keep staring at you, because even though it’s pity in his eye and your eye, his eyes, it feels good to have him looking at you, even if it’s like this. 

A part of you wishes he was dead. 

But mostly you just wish you were dead.

“You’re lucky you got to keep human parts, even if they’re mine.” You say instead. 

And he looks at you for a moment more before he adds more water to the overflowing pot.

“So you’re just going to sit here and bitch and moan? You’re going to take this out on Donut? On Sarge?” He huffs out a laugh before he continues “or are you going to take it out on me? It’d be very on brand for you.” 

He makes a mock crying face,and you can’t tell if that is actual hurt beneath his eyes and in his voice but yeah, you actually want to cry, but you can't right now, because he’s here and if you start crying, he might actually feel bad for you and then you’d have to die. 

“Yeah, Grif, I am.” 

And he doesn’t say anything to you because the words that could have been said and have been said, hang in the air between you two, thick like the humidity on rainy summer day.

Grif should have died and you should be human again but…

“Simmons, I really am sorry for how everything turned out.” He says. 

“Yeah, me too.” You answer and he leaves the room. 

Breath in through the nose.

Don’t let those stupid tears flow too much. 

Breath out through the mouth.

Calm your shuddering breath. 

Flex and release. 

And repeat. 

——

Sleeping in the same room becomes more painful than awkward and Donut has already forgiven you but really, you can't find the energy to care about any of this anymore.

You’ve taken to sleeping with your face to the concrete wall beside your bed, because any time you may be forced to be faced with your missing parts and you have to remind yourself that it isn't his fault even though it feels like it is. 

You don't really know whose fault it is though and it seems easy to blame the Blues because you know Lopez didn’t just walk off and join them. 

You’re not like the rest of these idiots, you have critical thinking skills, and god, you sound so much like dad right now. 

Dad hated everyone, and everything, that included you apparently, but he wouldn’t have let himself be turned into a fucking cyborg and he wouldn’t be hopelessly in love with the idiot who has his body parts but i guess if there’s any consolation, dad never made far enough into the military to get turned into a cyborg.

“Simmons are you crying?” 

You hear Grif’s voice and reflexively you roll over to look at him. You bite your lip and fight not to cringe at yourself, there are hot tears running down your cheek and you’re still having trouble focusing because of your enhanced eyesight mix with your other eye that still has astigmatism. 

Maybe dad had every right to hate you.

“N-no” you hear yourself say as you wipe away the side of your face that holds the evidence of your lie. 

“You’re a bad liar,but um do you want me to get Donut?” He turns to walk out but you catch him.

“No, please just leave him out of this.” You’re holding on to his real arm, trying to avoid your eye in his face. “ you can go if you want, if you’re uncomfortable.” 

He looks down at your hand clutching his arm.

“Are you sure you want me to go?” 

_ No _

“Yeah.” You let go of his arm and there are light red imprints of your fingers in his arm and you don't look up until the tapping of his feet get so far you can’t hear them out of your normal ear. 

And you lay down again and shove all those thoughts down until you hear him come back in the room, until you hear the groan of the mattress as he lays down, until you hear the soft snores come from him and you know he’s asleep,the whole base is asleep and you’re still awake, watching the wall trying to maintain your humanity.

So you breathe in deep, at least you can still breathe, at least your brain can still produce whatever chemicals it produces so you can calm down, at least you can still cry and at least you have killed everyone in this base yet. 

And that all has to count for something, right? 

  
  


——

Nights become increasingly difficult and you start to realize that the part of your brain that isn’t human doesn’t really need to sleep. You hate this revelation because you used to dream about a better life and even if your dreams weren’t always good, at least they weren’t here. 

And because of the self imposed restriction, you’ve been looking at Grif less and less, even with his armor on. So naturally when your robot brain protests sleep, he’s all you want to look at. 

And because that would be weird, you decide to start going on walks outside, to help clear your mind. It ironically does the exact opposite, only giving you more times to think about your sorry state and making the grieving process so much more bitter.

Everyone’s noticed your changed mood and you can tell from the look in his  _ human  _ eyes that Sarge might have the faintest bit of regret doing this to you. 

If he does, he doesn’t say as much. 

You’ve decided it was the Blue Team's fault. It makes living with these people easier and it makes hating The Blues all the more satisfying. 

But that can only take you so far.

When Sarge decides they’re going to use Grif and Donut as bait so you and him can get the drop on the blues, you’re pissed.

“Sarge, don’t you think our team has done enough almost dying this month .” 

Everyone looks at you and even though they have their visors on, you can tell it’s shock, because you can feel their burning gaze on you, because how long have you gone without speaking? 

Of course it’s Grif who breaks the silence, you two basically share a brain now. 

“We could do recon, instead.” He suggests and that seems to snap everyone else out of their daze, so much that Sarge doesn’t even acknowledge that an actually intelligent idea came from Grif and gives the green light for them to go. 

When the two are gone, Sarge just stares at you for a few moments before disappearing into the base without a word and you’re left on the rooftop with no objective other than to stare out into the canyon as the form of Grif and Donut slowly get smaller. 

When all is said and done and the day relatively over, you’re surprised once again that you didn’t kill anyone or snap completely and just go crazy. 

You’re endlessly surprised by the fact that no one else noticed that Donut was acting weird but maybe that’s just the insanity kicking in.

“That wasn’t him.” You hear Grif mumbled on that sleepless night. 

“What do you mean?” You say to the wall, hoping he was just talking in his sleep again.

He wasn’t. 

“It wasn't Donut but I’m sure you already knew that.” 

“How did you know that.” You sigh, because you don’t really care but you can’t bring yourself to be cruel just yet.

“Well for starters, why was Donut making the demands?” 

You shrug and maybe he see it, maybe doesn’t, regardless you hear a shifting sound like he’s turning to face you and then.

“I think Sarge chooses to believe in all this,” he begins,voice quiet enough that only your robot ear picks up his words. “Maybe it makes him feel better. I know I’d believe in anything to make myself feel better.” 

And you never thought of that before and you’re actually really surprised that this kind of thought came from Grif because wait 

“Make you feel better, how?” You break your own rule and face him, his eye and your eye are distant and you can tell, you might have fucked up but you’re amazed by the emotion that he's able to portray in a body part that doesn’t belong to him. 

And somehow you feel as though it’s the first stitch in the processes of your healing.

“I’ll tell you about it if we survive this place.” 

You want to laugh because he’s been given a second chance at life. How could he be worried about not making it out of this dump? Then you almost resent him again before breathing in deeply and remembering, it isn’t his fault. 

“Goodnight, Dex.” You don’t roll back over you just close your eyes. He doesn’t reply but that’s okay, you really didn’t care anyway.


	2. Into the wild time yonder

_ Goddamnit Grif, you better be okay.  _

It’s not the first time you think this and it definitely won’t be the last, your guts squirm around and you’re surprised they even had that ability to do that. 

You’re standing in a room full of what you can only assume to be a network of teleporters that if you were stupid enough to walk through one, could do anything from take you across the structure to across the galaxy. 

Needless to say, you’re not going to be stepping into any of them unless you decide you want to risk your existence. 

You sigh loudly because you’re actually not that surprised that some shit like this would happen. And for a moment, your mind drifts back to how you ended up in this mess of a military.

“ _ If you think you’re going to live in my house you have another thing coming.” Your dad tells you while having you sat on the couch, he's watching some sports game and you wonder if he is actually paying attention to this conversation. _

_ “It would just be for the summer until I get set up in the dorms…” you say, just loudly enough to be heard over the hologram. _

_ “So you’re just going to live here? Rent free? For a whole summer? How are you even going to pay for school?”  _

_ And yeah, you hadn’t thought that far but something was better than rotting here for the rest of your life.  _

_ “I-uh I don’t um.” You stutter out before he shuts down the program and faces you.  _

_ “No. Tomorrow you and I are going to take a drive.” _

_ And for a brief moment you think he’s going to kill you. Put you down like a dog. And it would be fitting considering he’s always treated you like one, if not worse.  _

_ “But dad-“  _

_ “No, now get the hell out of my sight.”  _

_ So you leave the “family” room and go into yours, you’ve never been allowed to shut the door, so you just cry with it open and hope he doesn’t leave his spot on the couch.  _

-pop-

-pop-

-pop- 

-pop-

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by the rattling of the gun in your hand and the spray of sparks in your face. 

Goddamnit! You’d almost forgotten that you weren’t exactly human anymore and for some unknown reason, your nerves will twitch up inside their metal casing, causing you to fire your weapon without any explanation as to why they are acting in such an erratic manner. 

You sigh deeply once more and decide that if you’re going to be stuck here for all of eternity, you might as well have company. so you get to rigging up the portal to allow communication across their spaces. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re able to locate two frustratingly familiar sets of red and blue armor. It’s Sarge and Caboose. 

You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of it. Holy shit. If there was anyone in this galaxy that Sarge could hate more than Grif it had to be Caboose. You almost want to leave him to his fate, the same way he left you to yours, it would be a wonderful sense of poetic justice. However once you’re able to hear them, it’s a completely different story, 

“Good work Caboose.” You can almost hear the smile in Sarge’s voice.

“Thank you Captain Sarge!” Caboose shouts gleefully. 

You hear Sarge laugh and it sounds so real and you hate the fact that all you can do is think about the ass kissing you did before he deformed you. 

Searing hot rage boils in your stomach and finds its way to your throat. 

“What the hell! Who the fuck! Does he think he is?!” You yell but you want to scream it, screech it. The rage is almost too thick to contain and you hear the mechanical parts of your body trying desperately to keep the human parts cool and normal and functioning. 

You wish they’d just give out already because what’s the point anymore. And right now you wish for nothing more than for Grif to be here. 

You doubt he’d know what to do about the waterfall of tears streaming down your eye but you know it’d make you feel better to see him, to see that he was okay, to see that your eye was okay. 

Okay, okay, just breathe

Wipe your face and breath. 

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

And repeat.

Helmet on. 

Voice, clear. 

“S-Sarge, Caboose, can you hear me?” 

“Yes, Captain I heard you!” Caboose shouts and you kind of want to strangle him.

“I didn’t say anything.” Sarge finally sounds annoyed with Caboose.

Your connection to them cuts out and very nearly tangle up the wires you were working with and throw them into a nearby teleporter in a fit of rage. 

Your hands are clamped tightly onto the wires and you holding a scream in your throat but you want to tell so badly that you’re grinding your teeth together and you hear the creak of the bones and it snaps you out your rage. 

Breaking your jaw isn’t going to solve this problem. 

Breath in through the nose. 

Out through the mouth.

Slowly. 

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth. 

And repeat.

You get back to work on the wires, you can finally see them again and they are surrounded by a bunch of dead bodies and you’re almost shocked that they were actually able to pull that off.

Second times the charm.

“Sarge, Caboose can you hear me?” 

“S-simons?” Sarge says, looking around for the source of your voice. 

“S-sir, just,” ugh “ yes, it’s me, look I was able to rig the teleporter my side so I can talk to you guys, I’m guessing you guys would like to get out of there?” 

“You’re right, we need to get out of here!” No shit that’s, what you just said.

“Okay, go to the teleporter on your side and I’ll see what I can do in the ways of getting you to my side. You might want to hurry before those guys wake up, they are going to be pissed.” 

“How did you-“ you cut your connection before he can ask how you knew and why you left them there so long, you’d rather not explain that you contemplated letting them both stay there.

You heard the music that woke the soldiers from the dead the last time but you’re not really in any rush to get the teleporter working, however Sarge and Caboose definitely are.

“Hurry up, Simmons!” Sarge shouts and you wish you could mute him. 

“Just give me a couple minutes!” You snap instead and this shuts him up long enough for you to hear Caboose say something stupid and 

“It’s working, come through now.” 

Sarge grabs Caboose by his breast plate and they tumble through the teleporter. 

“That was close.” You snark.

Sarge gets up taking his helmet off.

“That was completely ineffective timing! You could have gotten us killed.” 

You roll your eyes from inside your helmet. 

“You’re not dead, are you?” You sound like Grif, except you actually do your part and just because it wasn’t up to Sarge’s standard doesn’t make it any less effective. 

“Is that any way to talk to your superior?”

Oh, rough phrasing. 

“No, but when someone who's actually superior shows up, I’ll be sure to treat them with the utmost respect.” 

His face goes almost as red as his armor, it’s comical and you’re sure you’d have gotten an earful if Caboose hadn’t interrupted.

“We have to find Church!” 

“Shut up, Caboose!” You and Sarge shout in unison but you realize that, yeah, maybe you should find Church because if there any chance he’s with Grif, you’re willing to take it,

You sigh and look over at Caboose and there’s a pregnant pause and you finally stutter out. 

“You’re right.” And you look at Sarge “He’s right, we have to find Grif and Church.”

You walk over to a random teleporter, you pull out a couple wires and use the signal booster Sarge implanted to your armor and connect it, it takes some time but you’re able to pick up Grif’s signal. 

You try multiple times to get his attention but he’s either ignoring you or he can’t hear you, but he’s with Church, so that saves you a trip and you’re thankful for that. 

“We’re going to need the help of Donut and the Blues we left back at the base.” You say to Sarge.

He only replies with a mild grunt and you decide it isn't worth the fight. You pick a teleporter far away from him and thank god that there are so many, it takes you a little longer to get in touch with Blood Gulch, but once you do, you realize that the green blue guy is alive.

“Donut can you hear me?” 

You see his head swivel around and you’re relieved that maybe, just maybe, Grif was ignoring you, that asshole. 

“Okay, listen, i need you and the blue guy-“

“Tucker?” Donut interrupts 

“Yes, Tucker. Now listen, you guys have to go through the teleporter on your side, you’ll be transported to us and then ill be able to get us all to Sidewinder, okay?”

Donut nods and you’re not sure if he actually understands but if he doesn’t, then you guys can just leave them there and it works out anyway.

“No, Caboose!” You hear Sarge shout and you’re almost afraid to ask what just happened. 

“Wha-“

Sarge glares at you and then Caboose, his helmet has been off since your argument with him and you’re almost concerned that he hasn’t put it back on.

“He just activated a bomb, inside of Church’s body.” 

Church is with Grif and if that bomb goes off…

“Why the HELL! Would you put a bomb inside Church’s body!” 

That boiling rage from before feels like lava inside your skin, it's almost painful and you wonder if the mechanical parts for doing this. 

“Why do you care? It isn't like they’re your team or anything.”

“But Grif is with him you idiot!”

“Who gives a damn about Grif!” He shouts at you.

“I do! And you should too!”

And thankfully the implications don't hit him or at least if they do, he doesn’t acknowledge it,

“Donut and Tucker are on their way here, I’m going to work on the transport to Sidewinder.”

“Sidewinder,” Caboose exclaims “is that where we’ll find Church?”

You roll your eyes and ignore him, you have work to do.

When Tucker and Donut finally show up, you hardly notice, Caboose has been yapping non stop like an excited puppy and even though he put his helmet back on, you can still feel Sarge’s rage through his visor so two extra voices and pairs of eyes didn’t really make a difference. 

When the portal finally starts working and you see the frozen landscape of sidewinder, you shudder and hesitation bubbles in your throat when you have to tell the others it’s time to leave. 

_ “What do you mean they can’t get here?” _

_ “Well, Private, I mean that unless we want to survive this winter, we’re going to have to ration our food properly.” _

_ “Simmons?”  _

“Simmons?” 

“Simmons???” Donut’s voice cuts through your brain and you turn to face, thankful once more for the helmet that shields you from the world. 

“Y-yeah?” 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, come on we gotta find Grif and Church.” 

“Simmons,” Donut grabs your arm surprisingly tight “are you sure?” 

You pull your arm away and sneer “I said I’m fine.” 

Before the exchange can continue, you're through the teleporter and your mind clicks and you can really think of, is finding Grif to make sure he’s okay. 

It isn’t hard to spot him, his armor stands out against the never ending winter of sidewinder. 

“Grif!” You shout his name as you run towards him.

He looks over at you and you can imagine the confused look on his face as he replies with your name, that only one of your ears can pick up. 

“Simmons?” 

When you reach him, you’re ahead of the group and you want to know what’s going on but that isn’t at the forefront of your mind. 

“are you okay!” 

“Yeah I’m fine.” He says nonchalant, like he didn’t just get teleported halfway across the galaxy.

And you want to take off both of your helmets and you really want to kiss him, you want to tell him how happy you are that he’s okay and that if anything happened to him...if anything happened to him...you’d never be able to live with yourself.

But instead you say “good, I was worried my ear was broken when you didn’t answer me through the teleporter” 

You say this but you clutch his hands and put them to your visor and it’s a lot, even for you but he doesn’t pull away..

“I didn’t hear you.” He says quietly. 

“I know.” You mumble.

“The others will be here soon.” 

“I know.” 

He squeezes your hands and you look up at him. 

“It’s going to be okay, what’s the worst that can happen?” 

“You’re right.” You say and you still haven’t let go of his hands and he still hasn’t pulled away. 

“Let’s go, okay? We can talk about this later.” 

“Okay.” 

But neither of you let go and the group is getting closer, your ear can pick up on them but you’re willing to wait and maybe he is too and hopefully after all this with the Blues is sorted out you two can be together, after all, what’s the worse that can happen? 


	3. Well I guess it could have been worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is supposed to take place in between The bomb blowing up on Sidewinder and the crew finding Tucker on the beach in the middle of Season 3. I like the idea of Donut being smarter than he lets on lol

_You’ve never seen snow before, at least you think._

_You’re standing in a field that’s covered by the white stuff and the building in front of you is beautiful, it could almost be a house or something._

_It's huge and when you look at it too long, your stomach flips inside your abdomen and you think it’s so big and there’s only two of you._

_You think it’s because it looks like a house when you blink and like something else when your eyes are open._

_But still you marvel at its sheer size because the only thing that could compare to it, is the ship you came in on._

_“It’s beautiful isn't it?” Grif’s voice is quiet behind your ear._

_“It’s expensive.” You mumble “ why can't we look at more practical places?”_

_“We’re buying this on the UNSC’s dime, it’s the least they can do.” He laughs and his arms slink around your waist as you both stand in the field of this behemoth of a building._

_Your body feels like yours and your mind is clear for once in so very long you don't feel any trace of your former rage, you’re happy, so very happy._

_You look over at Dex and you’re ready to kiss him, the amount of love you feel for him in this moment swells in your chest and you’re unable to contain the smile that cracks your lips._

_“I love you.” You say._

_And you’re pulled into a deep kiss that could have only lasted one second or one year, you’re not sure but what you do know is that your head is swimming and you feel weightless._

_It's all perfect and beautiful to be real and you pray this moment never ends._

_And then you blink and you realize the problem. Your arm is warm and your guts are light, your head is free from that blinking light and when you look at Dex all his skin is the same dark hue. You step back from him and look up, the building is grand and you’re scared, desperately scared._

_It isn't long before you remember, you’ve been here before and you want to be gone, your stomach clenches and you try to wake up._

_Try to wake up….._

_Try to wake up..._

_Your body feels like it's stuttering when you run and your head feels like it is seizing up._

_It hurts so much but with every seizing pain you’re jolted back and Dex is getting blurry, you reach for his hand and you want him to grab it so bad but you’re falling so fast that he barely notices you’re missing before you’re finally gone._

“Simmons, wake up!” Donut shouts and your body explodes upward and you expected it to hurt, you thought you’d hit something but instead you’re standing when you really shouldn’t be and Donut is fussing over you.

“Are you okay? You really need to lie back down.”

You look around, expecting to see Sarge and Grif but its just you and Donut on an empty beach in the middle of god knows where.

“Where are we?” You croak out and your throat is on fire, you’re surprised you were able to talk at all. 

“I promise I’ll explain everything but you should probably get some more rest, fi-“

You shake your head in protest, not after that, not after going back there. You don't have the stamina to explain it to Donut but he understands anyway so he begins to explain, well try to explain, just where the hell you're at. 

“We might have gotten blasted into another time or dimension, it’s difficult to say because of all that work we were doing with the teleporters, it might have affected our suits and when the blast went off…” he shrugs and you want to clear your throat to talk to him but it hurts too much.

You point to the ocean that is maybe fifty feet from you and then to your throat, hopefully he’s not stupid enough to not understand.

“Oh yeah,” he smacks himself lightly on the forehead “ here you go.” He hands you some water from an emergency ration pack you are all equipped with, you want to smack your head too because how could you forget that. 

The water feels like sweet relief on your tongue and like plasma on your throat, whatever was wrong with it, might be more than a drink of water can repair, but it’s enough for now and after a moment of hesitation you're able to talk. 

“Where are the others.” You say just above whisper.

“I um..well, i don't know yet.” 

“I’m sorry what?” You manage to say a bit louder and you pay for it because your throat protest with a sharp pain, god, what the fuck happened. 

“I’m sorry! It’s just, you were out for a long time, almost three days and i thought you were dead, and then when you weren’t dead i was like ‘Okay good he’s not dead but why won't he wake up?!’ I wasn’t really concerned about finding the others.” He exhales harshly after all that and you take another drink of water, it doesn’t stop hurting but until you find Doc, you’re sure this is just going to become a part of your life now.

“It’s okay, I was just worried about-“ you stop yourself and you rephrase “ I just worried they were dead too.”

Donut smirks and you already know why but you don’t have the energy to deal with it. 

“What do you need me to do?” You ask, trying to avoid the subject.

“Lay down and rest okay? You’re not going to get any better by working yourself up.” 

So you lay down and then that you realize that your head is throbbing, your stomach is empty, and there’s a dull ache in your human eye, so you pretend to be asleep, listening to the waves crash against the shore, willing yourself to stay in the living world.

—-

Donut is surprisingly competent when he wants to be and you’re starting to get the idea that maybe his whole village idiot act is exactly that, an act.

When you are finally able to get up without feeling like you’re being crushed, you both decide that it’s time to start looking for the others.

“Where should we start?” You ask one night as you’re roasting your dinner of freshly caught fish. 

“We should probably follow the stream up and see if we can catch them attempting to follow it down.”

That’s actually a really good idea.

“Donut, are you sure you’re a rookie?” 

“Yeah? Why?”

“Because you seem to know what you’re talking about more often than not.” 

“It’s what we’re taught. You’ve been away from it longer and if you’ve never had to use those survival skills you kind of forget them.” 

You never really thought of it like that and it would make sense, you haven’t really needed to use your “survival skills” since your last command...and that well that didn’t end ideally.

“Hey, Simmons, what’s it like being in love?”

It’s a question straight from hell and you consider punching the teeth from the mouth it came from so it can never ask you that kind of thing again. 

How the hell does he know! Of all people on this godforsaken team. 

“What are you talking about?” You try to deflect the question.

But unfortunately, Donut isn't an idiot.

“I mean, you at least have a crush on Grif right?”

“This isn't the time for that shit!” You snap.

“When will there be a better time? Once we find him and Sarge, I doubt there’ll ever be a better opportunity.”

You bury your head in your hands and groan.

“Shouldn’t you know? You’re always talking about the guys you used to date back home.”

“Unfortunately, Simmons, date doesn’t always mean ‘love’.”

“This is so embarrassing.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“I know you're not but I am.”

“I swear i won't tell anyone.” He holds out his gloved pinky finger to you and you just roll your eye, what are you, twelve? 

“How do you know in the first place?” 

“I’ll tell you that _after_ you answer my question.” 

You sign and decide it’s not worth fighting anymore, it’s not like anyone will believe him anyway.

“It fucking sucks. Especially because of this,” you use your human arm to gesture to your synthetic half “I think sometimes I’ll go crazy because even if he were to feel the same about me, I’m reminded every time i look in the mirror or catch a reflection of myself, that we’re still technically in a war that keeps getting worse.”

Donut stares at the fire for a long moment before he runs a hand through his short blonde hair and sighs.

“You talk about him in your sleep, that’s kind of how I figured out you were alive.” 

Lightning strikes your heart, you are fucking idiot, of coruse you’d die and go to heaven or hell or whatever the fuck that was, only to come back to land of the living and be told you unintentionally spilled your deepest secret to someone you barely know and hardly like.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” You groan and honestly, you just want to die right now.

Donut smirks but the gesture is not malicious, instead it looks akin to the reaction one would have to a bad joke but you don't really know that and it annoys the hell out of you.

“What!” You snap “it isn't funny!”

“I know I know, it's just funny because, what are the odds that the two of you would find each other in the middle of this pointless war.” 

There are many things about that sentence that raise mental questions for you like what does he know about Grif? Why is talking about this now?Pointless? How was the survival of the human race pointless? 

“Pointless?” You furrow your brow and put on your hardest glare and a memory flashes past your vision and his words distort so badly they give you a headache worse than the one your robotic eye first caused. 

“Simmons,” he says but his words are drowned out and you hear the word echo inside your head, like it went in one ear and decided to bounce around in there without any regard for the other things inside 

_It’s pointless private, we’re all going to die here._

A cool breeze passes your face and your stomach drops. 

“ I-I, I um…” your throat clenches up and when you look off in distance you can see the flurry of snow against a thick metal structure, your limbs freeze and your mouth is hot and dry, you grip the sand beneath your hands tightly until it turns to snow and you suppress a scream in your throat.

Donut is staring at you like he’s the one causing this to happen to you and there’s a lapse of time between you staring back at and his face melting and morphing and it’s no longer Donut in front of you it’s someone else you know and you’re scared but you know what to do this time, you wrestle him to the ground and pin him down.

“You can’t go outside!” You shout at him “you won’t find any food, you’ll freeze to death, you’ll leave me all alone.” 

Your heart races, you don’t want to be alone again, you don’t want to be alone again.

“Simmons get off of me!” He shouts.

“No! You can’t go outside, you can’t!” 

Tears pour down your eye, your single eye, because you had two eyes then and you only have one eye that can cry now. 

And you see Donut through the wind whipping in your face and thick ugly sob breaks free from the confines of your chest. 

You’re shaking like a leaf in autumn, fragile, cold and scared to fall. Donut is staring at you, he’s scared too, because he doesn’t know what the hell just happened but he isn't pinned to the ground and you’re worried so badly about what just happened. 

“S-Simmons,” he swallows hard, “are you okay?” 

You both know the answer to that.

But only you know the reason. 

You’re lying on the ground and the wind settles down, the air is warm and the shadow fades into the rolling hills of cold that turn into dark concrete and ocean. 

“Simmons, w-what just happened?” 

You blink the water from your eye. 

“I cant...i can't tell you.” You whisper. 

Donut stares at you then at the fire and for what it's worth, he never brings any of it up again. 

——

Donut really tries not to say or do anything that might trigger, whatever that was again and you pretend not to notice that he’s quieter than normal, you don't want to piss him off or freak him out.

And after a couple days the two of you finally find Sarge and Grif and your heart is cluttered with relief. You almost don’t realize the multiple dents in Grif’s armor that could have only come from a goddamn shotgun. 

A part of you, a large part of you surges with red hot fury and when you wind up for a punch straight to Sarge’s visor, it’s Grif who has to hold your arm, your real arm back. 

“Just leave it alone.” He tells you, “it’s just not worth it.”

“How can you say that?” You mumble. 

“Because it’ll only cause more problems then it’ll solve.” 

And you hate that he’s right. 

When you find the base along the ocean, Sarge decides this is where you’ll all set up camp. You’ve been holding in your rage and you’ve been ignoring the fact that you still need to talk with Grif. 

Ironically it's him who jumps on the opportunity to stand guard while the other sleep and you realize halfway in between falling asleep and jumping up to go find him, that he did that on purpose.

Maybe you weren’t so damn smart after all. 

You find him sitting on a rock jutting out the jetty on the beach. Your heart thrums loudly and the stupid mechanical parts make it louder by trying to calm it down. He’s a fucking tease and he knows it.

He’s taken off his helmet and removed the upper portion of his armor. He’s always been a bit bigger than the rest of the team but the glove like nature of the body suit does nothing to hide the muscle that lay underneath his false exterior.

You bite your lip and you hate the fact that you can feel your cheeks burning red, your throat is still in utter pain but you try and ignore it when you clear your throat to gain his attention. 

“Took you long enough.” He says, eyes till transfixed on the inky waves. 

“I-i didn’t,” you take in a deep breath “I didn’t realize that you didn’t actually want to be a team player.”

“Ouch.” He says, now looking at you “I’m wounded by your harsh words.”

You roll your eyes and go over to sit next to him. The air is cold and you wonder how he’s not freezing, you know how you're not. 

“This reminds me so much of home, the ocean, the air, just everything about it so beautiful.” 

“I bet it’d be better if it were actually home.” Smooth.

You see a smile cross his lips before it disappears and is replaced by a deep longing sigh.

“Yeah, it wouldn't be as cold and I wouldn’t have to be in this.” He gestures to the armor beside him. 

You don't know how to respond, so you opt just to look out at the ocean, in a perfect world, you’d be holding his hand and there’d be more time to talk about what happened before all this.

In a perfect world you’d both have the body parts you were originally born with and stupid war wouldn’t have happened.

In a perfect world, you probably wouldn’t have met him and then the world wouldn't be so perfect after all.

So the two of you sit there on the rocks that jut out of the beach and into the ocean, you have to go to bed soon and he’ll probably do the same and yeah you two have so much to talk about but why ruin the moment with pointless words. 


	4. War doesn’t care if you don’t have a date to prom

Honestly, this war was crazy enough when it was just aliens and blowing up planets. Now it’s stalemates and ghost and “time travel” and crazy fucking freelancers. If you never ever saw a freelancer again, it would be too fucking soon but youre happy that Tex is mostly Blue Team’s problem. 

Grif, who apparently is really great friends with Tucker, will give you a little anecdote about what is happening over on the other side of this shitty canyon. 

And aside from the mindless banter and occasional nights on the roof where your hands will touch and your fingers will intertwine the two of you don't really talk, haven’t really talked.

Maybe it’s the fact that so much shit happened and it gave the both of you an excuse to not talk. Or maybe it’s because if you guys talked about it, it becomes real and it isn’t the “dealing with it” part that freaks you out, it’s the more like you don’t know  _ how  _ to deal with it.It could be because you both wordlessly agreed that you’re scared that the longing part will be better than the actual “getting” part and everything up to now, all that build up will be for nothing. 

Whatever it is, you both keep quiet through the longing stares and hours spent just talking about anything other than that thing you swore you’d talk about. You both keep quiet about it because it’ll just be easier that way, because you’re in a war of some sort and war doesn’t really care about anyone’s feelings.

But you hate the fact that you’re acting like some love struck teenager, you’re a goddamn adult and it shouldn’t be this difficult to just  _ talk  _ to him.

You personally decide to settle on the excuse that with Red Team getting caught up in Blue Team's baggage, you wouldn’t be able to do anything with a new relationship anyways so it’s best just to keep it like this, better you two pretend like this is normal than making it real. 

And then, Kaikaina Grif arrives in a pelican one day and you actually have more than a few questions that you’re willing to get answers for. 

Like for starters, who the hell on Blue Team just had a baby, and how? And why didn’t Dex mention he had a sister? And how did she get here so fast? It isn’t like that aircraft has a light drive. 

“How did you survive?!” Dex shouts “we’re hundreds of years in the future.” 

You clear your throat before Dex’s sister can even attempt to reply, thankfully the burning pain you felt not too long ago was just a result of being in a coma. 

“I don’t think we’re in the future….” you say. 

Everyone looks at you and of-fucking-course it’s Sarge who starts up the whole “we’re in the future” argument again. 

“Nonsense! We all already agreed we’re hundreds of years in the future!” 

“No! You said that and no one disagreed with you because you threatened to shoot them if they did!” 

“Simmons, your insubordination is getting out of hand!” 

You roll your eye. 

“It’s not my fault you forgot to add an “agree to my bullshit chip” when you scooped out my brain!” 

“I was actually sent here not too long ago to replace the leader.” Kai interrupts again, possibly sensing the mounting tension getting ready to explode. 

“What?!” You and Grif shout in unison. 

“Yeah? The leader died and one of you guys is supposed to get a promotion and I’m here to replace that person.” 

And for once, Sarge’s bullshit actually works out in your favor. 

“Well I guess that means I’m dead! Just like poor Donut!” And whether or not he’s really crying underneath his visor is questionable.

What you do know is that you’re not going to argue because your “insubordination” has been getting out of hand. 

“Grif, Simmons, um?? Sister! As my last order to you as Sergeant of the Red Team is to bury me, post haste!” 

“Sister” as Sarge so lovingly referred to her as, laughs at the strange request and Dex notes how we don’t even have shovels and Sarge in turn orders the three of you to make shovels to bury him with.

It’s hours before you’re able to find enough materials to improvise a shovel, dig a hole with the flimsy thing and once again ask Sarge if he’s positive this is the road he wants to go down. 

“Command could have just made a mistake.” You say as he climbs in the standard six foot deep by 3 foot wide hole. 

“Simmons! How dare you slander Red Command like that!” 

Dex gives you a look that says ‘just let it go’ and the creeping feeling of regret climbs up your throat filling it with a burning bile. 

You begin to shovel in dirt, the sun beating down on you like the bullies in school except they knew when to stop and didn’t realize you’d passed out until you wake up ‘sister’ and Dex are standing over you arguing about whether or not you’re dead too. 

“Sarge isn’t dead Kia!” Grif almost shouts. 

“Uh, yes he is? We just buried him.” 

“Okay, listen, Sarge isn’t dead, he just made us bury him and Simmons isn’t dead, I think his systems just overheated from the stress.”

“Systems? You mean like his body?” 

“Sorta of…” Dex says and you can hear the nervousness in his voice, how is he supposed to explain this whole mess to his sister. 

The sun beams through your visor and your mind works itself up, it isnt something you ever really thought about, mostly because you didn’t know he had any siblings but how thr fuck was he supposed to explain this whole mess to his sister?

And how would you explain it to dad? It’s a thought that never crossed your mind and you’re scared that maybe you’ll never be able to face him again...if he’s even still alive. 

You can’t remember if your planet got glassed during the war and you envy Dex and his sister. Because they’re from Earth, their home is protected and you think selfishly for a moment that maybe this is what they get from being so protected their whole life.

They get a war that affects everyone, not just the outer colonies and the burden of having to explain why your body is thirty percent someone else’s. 

A pair of arms pick you up and you almost want to throw up. Was Dex picking you up? Is he even strong enough to do that? 

You screw your eye shut when he looks down at you and even though your helmet is still on and there is no possible way he could see if you were awake, your heart is racing and your mechanical half is working relentlessly to calm it down, the combination of noise is loud in your ears and only furthers your anxiety, you don't even get to enjoy this moment. 

Dex sets you down on your bed and removes your helmet, your eye is still closed and internally, you’re screaming. 

“Why is his face like that?” His sister asks bluntly.

“This isn’t the time.” You hear him mumble and it’s muffled in the way that only a helmet can do and you wonder how long he’ll be able to hide this whole mess from her. 

When you no longer hear their feet clicking down the hall, you open your eye and glare into the burning light above. You could just lay here and let them believe you’re dead. 

When you finally get up, you realize that you’ve walked in on Dex and Kia in the middle of a very important conversation. 

“So he’s part robot because you almost died.”

“We’ll sort of, he got turned into a robot then I almost died.” 

“How did that happen?” 

“It’s a long story.” 

“Well we have a lot of time.”

“No, you need to go to Blue Base.” 

“What?” You gasp out and they both turn to you.

Dex has his helmet off and so does his sister, you notice how strikingly similar they look and your heart clenches with the thought ‘how similar they used to look’.

“S-sorry…” you mumble out. 

“You’re kind of cute!” Dex’s sister blurts out after a long moment of silence and you and Dex face her, cheeks pink and eyes wide. 

“Ohhh I’m sorry,” Kai snorts out “ are you two dating?”

“Kaikaina, seriously!” Dex shouts.

“What?” She says nonchalantly “it wouldn't be the first time i found one of your boyfriends cute!” 

Dex slams his helmet on his head with such force you think it might have broken his neck.

“Let’s go!” 

It’s a little while before Grif comes back and you’re thankful for that time because you actually need a moment to process what the hell just happened. 

You decide that it’s best not to think about and pour yourself a glass of water. Your mind wonders and you feel yourself swimming through them,barely able to keep your head above the growing waves of memories.

_ It’s junior year and of fucking course you don’t have a date for prom, because how many cliches do you have to check off before your life is officially a bad teen movie?  _

_ You hardly feel any shame going by yourself but this revelation upsets your dad most of all . He lectures you for hours about the importance of socializing and gaining new experiences.  _

_ And you know all this already and you want to tell him. _

_ “It’d have been easier for me to have found a date if you didn’t make me join the GIRLS baseball team.”  _

_ But instead you just sit there listening as he rambles on about how your life in high school will determine the kind of adult you’ll grow up to be.  _

_ “Look, Rich, if you can find yourself a date by the end of the week, I’ll pay for everything from your tickets to a nice car for you to rent.”  _

_ You know it’s not a bride, it’s a threat, he gives the money to cover the extra ticket and tells you if you don’t have a date by Friday night he’ll want it paid back plus interest. _

_ So you steel your nerves. Because as much as you’re afraid of other people, youre scared of your dad more.  _

_ You’ve been wanting to ask this guy named Noah out forever. He’s partially the reason you wanted to be in the Mathleats, until your dad shot that idea square in the face.  _

_ So you work up the nerve to ask him, you two have been friends since freshman year and you’ve had a crush on him since sophomore year when you started really realizing that maybe you weren’t all that into girls.  _

_ It’s never something you brought up to dad but it’s nothing he’s brought up either, his indifference to life and people outside of his need for control over you has never fell into the realm of being homophobic. And you're not sure if that’s a blessing or curse.  _

_ “Hey, Noah!” You walk up to him on Tuesday after class, you’ve bought the extra prom ticket and your heart is fluttering with sheer excitement “do you um...want to go to prom with me?”  _

_ Noah stops dead in his tracks and turns to fully face you, your heart is beating with anxiety and you’re scared of what he might say. You know it isn't a beautiful promposal but youre so limited on time and what if he gets a date? You don’t remember him talking about going with anyone. _

_ “I’m sorry, I’m going with Cassandra and you're just not my type, Rich.” You don’t remember him talking about going with anyone before this.  _

_ Youunderstand, sure but your heart is still broken and it’s destroyed further by the fact that he no longer talks to you in the passing halls or mentions you to any of your mutual friends, it’s like you destroyed everything, including your friendship that day.  _

_ You’re lucky though, he could have been cruel like your dad was who mocked you every day after saying  _

_ “You couldn’t even get another guy to go with you.”  _

_ You cry in your room again that night and decide that maybe if your life was a shitty teen movie and you’d be the unluckiest protagonist ever.  _

You shake your head violently, trying to get rid of the memory like it was water after a long swim, you wish Donut was here because at least you’d be able to talk to him about this kind of trauma.

“Sorry about Kai.” Grif says when he finally comes back.

“It’s fine.” You say blankly staring at your water.

“I guess we better go get Sarge.” He says sitting down next to you.

“How did your sister not know we were red?” 

“She’s colorblind.” 

“Colorblind? I thought girls couldn’t be colorblind.” 

“It’s really rare. But being fucking stupid isn’t.” 

You laugh a little at that.

“You’re one to talk.” 

“Okay, sure but at least I know red from blue.” 

“That isn’t a very high bar you’re setting there.” 

You both start laughing and it feels like something warm has burrowed it’s way into your heart and no matter what happens after this, you’re never going to be sad again. 

Too bad metaphors aren’t reality and you both stop laughing. 

Grif is sitting on the opposite side of the table from you, his helmet has been off since he walked in the kitchenette of the base. His eyes are warm and you’ve grown used to calling them both  _ his  _ eyes. 

His hand reaches over and touches yours and the second his finger tips brush yours, it's like a lightning shooting through you, is this really the time?

“So you sister used to find your dates, cute?”

Grif laughs at that 

“Yeah, Kia and I have always been really close,” he sighs and stares off for a moment “and I never minded sharing things with her but boyfriends we’re definitely not one of those things but you know how sisters can be.”

“Actually I don’t..” you mummble and instantly regret how fucking sad that sounded and wish you could take it back. 

“Oh, uh” he tries to say something but the words are getting lost before they can work their way out of his mouth and you feel his grip on your hand tighten just a little.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to make it weird.” You say honestly and move to stand up “we should probably go check on Sarge.” 

You remove your fingers from his and sigh, before putting your helmet on.

You have to go dig up your idiot sergeant out of the grave he insisted you put him in. 


	5. Dying for that second chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time skips again and again only adding to the bullshit time travel theory, at least you got something out of it.

The rage that glows in Grif’s eyes when you and the rest of Red Team find the video feed in the tunnels is unmatched by anything you think you ever felt yourself. 

It’s almost inhuman.  It takes all of your and Donut’s strength to hold him back from punching the lights out of Sarge, who by all means didn't know who Kai was and did not refrain from letting free his overly lewd comments. 

  
  


“Fucking, stop looking at the goddamn screen!” He shouts, pulling at two people holding him back.

Sarge steps back and the screen changes and you and Donut simultaneously decide to let him go and watch as Sarge and Grif each get in a few good hits on each other. You’re surprised that Sarge didn’t just shoot him, nothing has ever stopped him before. 

When it’s all over, Sarge has a bruising on his cheek and a busted like and Grif’s eye is nearly swollen by the bruises on his upper cheek and is clutching his side as Sarge, the ever tactical fighter took a couple of cheap kicks to Grif’s kidneys when he was down on the ground.

Donut decides that him and Sarge should walk ahead. You hear Sarge was ranting about how command should have answered his calls for insubordination and mutiny a long time ago and Donut is doing his best to calm him down, not wanting to see another, possibly more deadly fight break out in the future. 

When they are far enough ahead that their voices start to fade, you pull Grif up off the ground and he almost instantly pulls you into a tight hug, you’re stiff at first worried about the pain he must be feeling but soon you melt into it.

He’s a bit shorter than you, so his rest just on your shoulder plate, you imagine that if the armor wasn’t in the way, his breath on your neck would make this hug very uncomfortable very fast. 

“I hate this place so goddamn much.” He mumbles, into your neck. 

“I know.” You reply, all other words lost in your brain before they can come out of your mouth. 

The two of you stay like that for a long moment and you can’t help but enjoy the fact that you’re holding him so closely and sooner than that thought enters your mind another shoves it out of the way in favor of another. 

_ You’re being a selfish prick, using his vulnerability in this moment for your own personal gain _ . 

And enough of you agrees with it that you let him go, before he can realize this too.

“Let’s go catch up to them okay?” 

He just nods, gesturing for you to lead the way. 

When you two get back to base, something strange happens and it wouldn’t be till later that you realized the shitty luck you’d have. 

After the events in the cave, you decide you’re going to take a page of his book and take a nap before you guys are roped into another one of Blue Team's problems. 

You and Grif have shared ever since day one of boot camp when you shared a bunk, you’ve grown used to a majority of his habits that for better or worse has made you closer to the man under the orange armor. 

However, ever since god-knows-how-long now, one major thing has changed in being Dexter Grif’s “roommate”. 

Grif has never done anything in particular to make this an uncomfortable act for you and you’ve never had the nerve to ask him to leave because that would imply you’re shy and especially now, you don’t want to have to face the fact that you’ve never undressed in front of anyone else but him. And up until just a year or so ago, you realized why that was such a big deal. 

So when you stand up and start taking the parts of your armor off that will be the least comfortable during a nap, you do not expect him to come over and ask you what is quite possibly the strangest and most unintentionally explicit thing you have ever been asked in your life. 

“Mind if I help?” 

And there’s no hiding anymore. 

Your throat is dry, your cheeks are burning red, your helmet is across the room and his hand is gently over yours just above the latch that will remove your chest plate. You wonder what’s changed, what’s made him this bold, you wonder, why now? Why ask me this now? Of all the times you’ve done this of all the times to ask this, why now? 

“I uh,” fucking say something “ um sure.” Your voice cracks and you’re mentally punching yourself over and over again for overthinking this. 

His hands are lighter than they oughta be and he wastes no time unlatching the chest plate,arm plates and shoulder plates. You decide you’d look fucking ridiculous with only half your armor on and work on the bottom half yourself, thanking God or whoever that he doesn’t ask to “help” with that. 

When you’re done and in nothing but the glove like bodysuit, you realize how close he is to you,again. 

Tentatively, his arms wrap around you loosely until his hands are interlocked at your lower back and you’re chest to chest with him. 

And even though he’s still in his armor and you’re like  _ this,  _ your heart is beating faster than you thought normally possible without having a heart attack. You’ve never been this close to him before. 

It’s here in his arms that you can see all the tiny flaws on his cheek are the bruise is going to be worse and how his eyes, one of them that was once yours, is now more hazel than green. 

You’re so mesmerized by the details of him that you almost don’t realize when his lips are pressed against yours until you do and then you feel the tears flowing down your cheek.

It takes him a moment to notice this too and when he does he pulls away, his lips still very close to yours. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, you hear his foot step back a bit and you’d do anything to just stop crying. 

“Yes, you idiot.” You say as you push yourself back into him. 

You have no frame of reference to say if it was an objectively “good” kiss but it most ded was your first kiss and maybe that’s all that mattered to you in that moment. And maybe it was the way that your lips locked together so perfectly or maybe the way your tongues danced in each other’s mouth or even just fact that this was something you could only daydream about, that made you believe in that soulmate shit Donut always talks about. You don’t really know. 

All you know is that right now, you were probably the happiest you’ve ever been and you hate yourself for it.

And before you could pull away and say “what now?” The world stuttered and you were laying in your bed, in full armor and you were considering taking a nap but this armor is so uncomfortable and weren’t you here before? 

You stand up and like a robot you go through the motions of beginning to unlatch your armor, you’re confused. And then it happens again, if not a little differently this time. 

“Mind if I help?” He still asks and his voice is still like warm butter on bread. 

And you’re not so much of an idiot this time because you know your throat is dry and you just nod approvingly. Your heart still skips a beat or two when he gently unlatches the armor and slinks his hands to your lower back, pressing you two together. And your breath still catches when he kisses you deep. Your body is on fire and you’re so happy that you get to live this moment again and again. 

Until the world resets a third or maybe fourth time, you lose count and this time when the clock resets, Donut walks in before anything can happen. 

  
  


You're not as angry as you thought you’d be, you’re still riding the high of those kisses and of that strange intimacy you both shared but only you remember. 

“Sarge wants us up on the rooftop, something is happening with the Blue Team.” Donut says and before you can leave Grif grabs your arm and you don’t put your helmet back on because you think he’s going to kiss you again. 

And for a moment of silence there’s a look of familiarity in his eyes and you think your hesitation is about to be rewarded, until you realize it isn’t. 

“Simmons, does your head hurt?” 

You want to laugh because for some reason, it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard? 

“No my head doesn’t hurt but if yours hurts that bad maybe you should stay down here, you’re still beat up from well....” 

“Nah, I don’t want Sarge to come down here to finish the job.” 

And you would have made a comment about how you couldn’t believe that Dexter Grif of all people would pass up an opportunity to stay and take a nap but you don’t really get that chance. 

“Will you two hurry up! Something important is going on at Blue Base!” Sarge shouts loud at the spot on the roof where your “room” is. 

When you’re on the roof, sniper rifle in hand do you realize, if not partially that all this bullshit time skipping is being caused by that goddamn Freelancer. And you consider for a moment shooting both of them, because it isn’t like they’d suspect anything from Red Base. 

“What are those Dirty Blues up to!” Sarge shouts so close to your ear, you may as well go deaf.

“I don’t know. I can’t read helmet bobs.” 

He grabs the Sniper rifle from your hands and shoves you back. 

“Fine! If my entire Team is going to be-“ And you just tune him out until it’s over, it’s not like you have anything to lose. 

_____

You don’t actually know if you feel anything about it. 

You feel kind of bad, because In the moment after the bomb destroyed the pelican took off and the bright white whisper of light indicated that the light drive had been activated, Church had let out a blood curdling scream that echoed off the walls of the canyon. 

But you couldn’t have been happier because two of your three major problems in life had just disappeared. 

“Church?” Caboose cut through the silence that the group had been blanketed in “what do we do now?” 

Everyone, including Sarge, looked over to Church. He was on his knees, clutching at the dirt beneath his fingers and if he had his helmet off, you're sure you’d see the stain of tears on his cheeks, it was a look you were all too familiar with. 

“I don’t care what you do anymore” he mumbled before getting up, leaving his discarded weapon on the ground and walking off. 

_ They _ came not long after to assess the situation. 

_ “Do you know where Agent Texas went?”  _

_ “Was Agent Wyoming with her?” _

_ “Bombs can’t talk, soldier.”  _

_ “Alien baby? What alien baby?”  _

_ “You say Captain Flowers died, again?”  _

_ “You’ll be receiving your new orders soon, good work.”  _

The Blues were the first to pull out and for the couple days that they’re gone, the canyon was the quietest it had ever been and at night when you sit on the rooftop and digest the last couple days, Grif doesn’t join you on any of those nights. 

When you go to your room the night before you’re all scheduled to leave, you don't expect to see Grif dutifully packing his gear. 

“What’s got you all out of character?” You snark as you pass by him, your bag already packed. 

“Didn’t you hear? Sarge isn’t accepting his new orders.” 

“What? That’s crazy! Why not?” 

The larger man shrugged. 

You stared at him for a second, considering your next words carefully. 

“How’s your head been feeling?” 

“It’s better, thanks.” 

You clench your first softly and do possibly the bravest thing you’ve ever done. 

“Do uh, do you remember anything from before your head started hurting?” 

“Um n-no not really...I think you said something about taking a nap but that doesn’t sound like you so I don’t think I do.” 

“yeah, okay.” You sigh as relife fills you up; you're not sure why it’s relife you’re feeling but it is. 

“Where’d you get orders to?” 

“Crows nest. And you?” 

“Crows nest.” 

“I guess you’re not getting rid of me that easy after all.” He says and there’s a wide grin plastered on his face. 

“Yeah, I guess not.” And you can’t help but smile back at him.

  
  
  
  



	6. A Lie by Omission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit a change in POV and some very angsty plot?

You had this dream that felt all too real, back when you were at your old base, it was right before Tex and Wyoming fucked everything up at Blue Base and took off with that weird Alien baby thing. 

_ In that dream, you’re watching Simmons fumble with his armor, you guess he’s attempting to take it off for some reason, so you stand up and you offer to help.  _

_ And it’s at this point when you know it’s a dream, because he stutters and you try to hold back a smile because he's the cutest person you’ve ever met.  _

  
  


_ You remember him before Sarge went all mad scientist on him. How both his eyes would glint with annoyance when he was yelling at you for something completely random or not. How his red hair was always so perfectly cut in a way that when the sun in that stupid canyon caught it just right, he looked like a blonde runway model. And none of that really changed when he got his robot parts.  _

_ That bastard Sergeant was apparently very good at mimicking the look and feel of human skin and eye pigment that, Simmons almost looked the same, except now you had parts of him and it never failed to make your gut twist when you thought about it, so you normally tried to avoid that train of thought. “I uh,um, sure!” His voice cracks a little and you want to kiss him right there and then.  _

_ Soon his armor is off and instead of immediately going to his bed and laying down like he normally would, he lingers for a moment giving you time to decide you’re sick of waiting for ‘right time’ to talk about this. You lightly grab him by his lower back and kiss him.  _

_ You were expecting a lot of things. You expected him to shove you away and say “what the fuck are you doing?!”  _

_ You expected his eyes to shoot open and for him to recoil and threaten to shoot you.  _

_ You even expected him to say some shit like “that’s not what I meant! I don’t feel like that about you.”  _

_ But instead, he kisses you back and it’s like something out of a goddamn dream, that is the only way to describe it. But then suddenly and seemingly without cause, he starts crying and your fantasy is slowly unraveling into a nightmare. _

_ You heard the hitch in his breath before you saw the tears that were coming from his face and all you wanted to do was comfort him, pull him closer somehow, wipe the tears away and tell him some comforting shit because he didn’t pull away from the kiss, that means...he wants this too, right?  _

_ But yeah, that’s not what you did in this dream. Instead you pull away, ask him if he’s okay, you’re ready to pull away in a moment's notice, to pretend like it never happened for the rest of your life.  _

_ But, god does he keep surprising you.  _

_ “Yes you idiot!” He says before leaning in and kissing you back. _

_ None of your wildest fantasies could live up to this dream, to this moment in an unreal fantasy.  _

_ A _ nd then you wake up and you’re back in reality, Donut walks in and it’s back to dealing with the Blue’s shit again. 

When Donut leaves and Simmons is almost out the door, you grab him by the arm and in a brief almost surreal moment, you think about kissing him, like that crazy dream you just had. 

Instead you end up staring at him for a moment too long and ask if he also has a hangover level headache. He says no and tells you to stay back but right now, you’re riding the high of that dream and you’d follow him anywhere, no matter how shitty the imaginary headache. 

He gives you a crooked smile in reply, before Sarge interrupts and you’re so happy when you finally put your helmet on because you are not sure if you'd be able to hide the stupid flush in your face without it. 

_ “ _ I’m sorry about you kid, dude.” 

“It’s fine,” Tucker sighs and looks up at the empty sky “you know I always thought I’d be the deadbeat dad that ran off on my kid, not have them be kidnapped by freaky space marines.”

“Also the alien part?” You say, trying to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. 

“Yeah that too.” he mumbles, eyes still cast upward. 

“Dude, you’re so weird.” you say, in a vain attempt to try and lighten the mood.

It works too well. 

“You’re one to talk!” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I mean you and your HUGE crush on Simmons!” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Oh come on! I’ve eavesdropped on ONE of your conversations and I was able to tell how you feel.” 

“Ugh you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Nope. But if it makes you feel better, he feels the same way.”

“Fuck off, how did we even get into this conversation talking about your kid?” 

“I don’t know man, but you might want to admit it to yourself before you lose him.” 

You sigh 

“I think it’s too late for that, remember?”

“Ohh right...where are you going?”

“Crows Nest...with Sarge.”

“And Simmons?” 

You shrug and take a drag from your nearly forgotten cigarette. 

“That’s rough…”

And if his Alien Kid hadn’t died, you’re sure you’d have said some dumb shit like ‘tell me about if.’

Instead you put out your cigarette beneath your foot and turn to face Tucker.

“Take care man.” You stick your hand before being pulled into a very tight hug. 

—

The relief you feel when you find out Sarge isn’t going to be leaving this base is almost cathartic.

If Donut and Simmons hadn’t been holding you back in the caves, you’re sure you would have either been killed by him or killed him, either way someone was going to die. 

You were initially sad when you didn’t get to say bye to Kai but in a weird way, it works out better for everyone this way, it’s almost like how you left home, except I guess this time she was leaving you. 

When Simmons walks in and starts giving you shit for actually being packed and ready, your gut starts to well up with dread. 

_ Did you forget, dumbass? He’s going away too!  _

“Where uh did you get orders to?” 

“Crows nest and you?”

“Crows nest.”

_ No. Fucking. Way.  _

“I guess you won’t be getting rid of me that easy, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not.” And you hate how badly you want to kiss him right then and there, again. 

—

When you two make it to your new command, you’re surprised by how shitty it actually is. You don’t know if you were expecting it to be better or what, but definitely not this.

The barracks here are single man rooms, with enough space for a bed, a locker and flimsy looking night stand. Your heart drops at the prospect of sleeping alone after the few years you have been sharing a room with Simmons, is not something you’re just going to get used to overnight, literally. 

This new command isn’t quite like your last. For starters, there’s no Sergeant here to lead the troops and you’re almost relieved but that’s when it hits you that your Sarge was supposed to come here and “lead” them, now you’re really curious as to why he decided to stay. 

Regardless, these men need a “leader” and after they decide that they can’t deal with Simmons’ brand of organized, chore wheel making leadership, they “elect” and promote you to the rank of Sergeant. You’re not exactly sure that’s how it works but honestly nothing about this fucking war made sense to begin with.

You’ve admittedly never actually been in charge of anyone or anything, not counting the years you spent looking after Kai, so the new authority is foreign to you. 

After a lot of failed attempts at doing nothing, you decide to promote everyone in this new “Red Team” to the next highest pay grade so they’ll firstly, get off your back and secondly so they run themselves. 

And for the first year, it really works out, even though Simmons is a lot less than thrilled. 

“What do you mean you just promote everyone?”

“ Well. I guess I bump them up to the next rank and they’ll figure the rest out for themselves.” 

“How does that even make sense?!?” 

You shrug and the look of annoyance on his face is priceless. 

“I guess that headache really did a number on the remaining brain cells in there, huh?” He remarks.

You laugh and for a moment you almost forgot about that stupid lie you told him but what would say about the truth. 

“Now that you bring that up…”you begin, deciding to tread carefully as to not crack the metaphorical ice “do you remember Sidewinder?”

Simmons goes stuff and you’re already regretting your stupid question. 

“What about Sidewinder…?”

You bite your lower lip and god has this helmet come in handy for more than just keeping bullets out of your brain. 

“Like, do you remember what happened before Church blew up?” 

It’s a moment you’ll never forget and instinctively your hand inches closer to his, and when you notice it, you decide not to stop it.

“Hardly.” He mumbles.

“oh.” You hear yourself whisper and you wonder if he can hear you too. 

He turns to face you and your heart is pounding, you can’t be mad because you did this to yourself, you started this conversation, so for once in your life you better damn well finish something. 

“do you want me to tell you about it?” Your gloved fingers brush his and you hate this uniform for putting more distance between you. 

“Grif, I don’t think,” he pauses and looks down at the both your guys hands, 

This is a dance you’re both so used to, the conversation doesn’t have to be serious like it is now; it just has to be long enough for someone to get the idea in their head that your hand should be in the others and you both for some stupid reason have to pretend like it isn’t something the both of you want.

Every time is like this. Your fingertips will brush, your fingers will slowly work their ways into each other, and then for the grand finale, one of you, it doesn’t matter who, will flip their hand to palm up so the other can clasp it, and you’ll both sit like this for minute or hours, it hardly ever matters. 

“I don’t think we should do this right now.” he mumbles, pulling his hand away and standing up. 

And you are pissed. Yes, angry, completely livid,and honestly, very hurt and you don’t know why.

“Why the fuck not!” You shout after he’s only taken a couple of steps.

“This just isn’t the right time.” He says, not even facing you.

“Then when will be the right time, Richard.” You hardly ever use his full and real name and it sounds wrong coming out of your mouth but it’s too late to change that. 

“I don’t know!” He says, not quite a shout but definitely close.

“Why not.” You're on your feet now, glued in place but desperately wanting to walk to him, to stop this burning feeling in your chest, the same one you’re almost sure he’s feeling right now.

“I don’t know.” he mumbles this time and take another step. 

“You’re the one who wanted to talk about this, whatever this is and I’ve waited, I’ve been patient, and I just want you to talk to me!” 

Simmons tears off his helmet and throws it at the ground with nearly enough force to shatter the visor.

“Would you be happy with this!” He gestures to his body starting at his head and ending at his toes“I’m not human anymore, I’m barely a person. You have the part of me that made me, me and still somehow you’re still you and you’re still fucking human!” 

And you pause and take a shuddering breath. 

“I’m not thrilled about this either and if it means you could have kept your human parts, I would have died that day.”

“Just, stop.” He says, voice firm and unwavering. 

But if you just don’t know when to shut up. 

“If you hate me so much, then what was all that bullshit on Sidewinder? Why did you fucking kiss me back if you wanted me dead so badly!?” 

Your heart nearly stops because you’re sure that was a dream, you’re almost sure that...wasn’t real, was it? 

Tears are welling up in your eyes and you can’t move because you’re paralyzed by your guilt and cowardice and why the fuck would you say that? It was a fucking dream, right? 

He doesn’t respond but you can see the realization in his eyes; no that wasn’t a dream.

“Shut up, Grif.” It’s the last thing you hear him say in a long time. 

How did you two get here? 

  
  



	7. You suck at coping/Man you suck at break ups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay chill out, i pink swear the OC is not me lol i had a difficult time creating him and he’s mostly just a cheap plot device to get these two idiots to talk, but i really do apologize if you hate him. Oh also the shift in POV starts after the: ////////// so it starts with Simmons and ends with Grif, i wanted these two stories to be in one because i didn’t want two chapter treading the same ground.

How could you fuck that up so badly? How could you turn a conversation about Sidewinder of all places into another one of your shitty monologues about how much you hate your body?

Only you could do that, only you could be so selfish as to twist the subject beyond recognition and the worst part is, Grif was right, you did say you wanted to talk to him about all this after it was over...but that was before you realized how fucked everything was and yes technically you two were done. 

You’d changed assignments and were now thousands of miles away from that godforsaken canyon, forever. The only Blues you two had to worry about as competent as the last and came without all the extra baggage. 

_ What’s the worst that can happen?  _ He said when you two were on Sidewinder. 

And all you can think is this, this is the worst that can happen? 

We could literally go through space and fucking time together, we could fight off enemies that aren’t ours to begin with, we could find out your sister is still alive even though we thought we traveled through time, you could almost get killed by Sarge, and we could kiss...and you’d let me think I was the only one who remembered it until today when you decide today is the right day to bring it all up, without so much as a warning. 

It’s almost midnight when you realize Grif hasn’t come back. You assumed for the first four hours that he was sitting in the same spot doing some dramatic shit like you were, staring off into the vast underground cavern waiting for you to come back.

And then four hours turned into nine hours and you’d woken up early as per your normal and his room door was still wide open.

You decide to say fuck it, you’re worried about him and you’re not going to let some stupid fight ruin your guys potential relationship. 

He wants you, he made that clear and you know you haven’t been the most forthcoming with your feelings, but you want him too.

So you go, you skip most of your morning routines and you go to the spot you’ve been hanging out at. It’s this place’s equivalent to the rooftop at Blood Gulch. You know he’s there the second you hear the voices and you know you shouldn’t have come when your jog slows to walk. 

But what did you really expect that to happen? 

Well with your luck, you should have expected exactly this. Because when you finally work up the nerve to go back and when you finally get there of course everything would be fucked. 

_ It’s Grif with a guy from the Blue Team. He’s always been bad at seeing them as an enemy, he was friends with Tucker back at Blood Gulch and Church talked about him like they were at least somewhat well acquainted. But Grif and Church never sat so closely that thier lips were pressed so deeply into each other that you knew what their toungs were doing despite not being able to see and Tucker despite all his talk of sex and women, never unbottoned Grif’s pants and took him in his mouth.  _

It’s five in the goddamn morning you want to yell at them! You don’t know why the time is so relevant to you but you do know that you can feel your nails dig into your flesh until you feel blood running down your palm. 

You hate yourself for being so overcome with jealousy that you almost consider killing that Blue fucker right then and there. And if you were in your armor, you know you’d have no problem killing him. 

So fine, you walk away because what can you do? You can't do anything except go back to base with a sinking feeling in your gut. It isn’t like you two were together anyway. 

Time passes and not thinking about that morning has gotten harder to deal with, especially because you’ve had to come to terms with a lot of things about yourself very quickly.

Mainly that, you’re a virgin, not by choice of course, but you’ve never had the personal confidence to “get out there”.

So you keep telling yourself you're waiting for the right person, you say shit like ‘ i want it to be with the right guy’ or ‘ i want to wait till marriage.’ But you know that for you at least, these are just petty lies and you feel like a fraud every time you say them, even if it’s to yourself.

If you’d just had enough courage to step outside of that part of yourself, if you hadn’t been such a goddamn kiss ass at blood gulch...everything wouldn't be so fucked up right now. And the thought of that night is keeping you up at night, making your days of loneliness drag on like a snail in molasses. 

You hear a knock at your door on night while thinking about this for the millionth time and your heart seizes because you realize you were probably crying again and really, you want to open the door and order whoever the fuck that is to kill you for constantly being such a pussy.

“Sir, are you alright in there?” 

You don’t recognize the voice but you clear your throat anyway and nod before realizing they can see you.

“I’m fine, what are you doing roaming around in the barracks at this hour?”

“Uh guard duty, sir.” 

“R-right, well carry on then.” 

The footsteps slowly fade away.

You bite your lip and steady your breathing, you shouldn’t let this get to you, deep down you know it’s just a bunch of miscommunication but it doesn’t help no matter how much you remind yourself of that.

Over the next few months things don't really heal between you and Grif and you wonder if it's because he knows that you’re aware of what happened between him and that blue, but how would he?

_ His eyes were closed...and just thinking about making you cringe because you can hear his soft moans as that stupid blue’s head sunk lower into his lap and the way he balled his fist so tight gave you the impression that he was enjoying it.  _

You can tell it's difficult for him to approach you so you decide to keep your distance too and every other night you hear his room door open, it wakes you from your sleep, like you know why he’s leaving and you want to throw up every time. 

/////////

You slam your fist into a nearby wall with a force that puts a few cracks in the surrounding concrete. You would have been surprised that your fingers didn’t shatter into a million little pieces but you’re too angry to be impressed.

_ Why does it matter? Why does it matter that your arm was his and now he has an arm that no one can recognize as robotic? Simmons could look like a fucking monster from an old horror movie and you’d still love him why did he have to care so much?  _

You cradled your head in your arms as it sinks between your knees, your attempts at concealing your pain are going unrewarded as a sob breaks free from your chest and a deep dark hole absorbs the light from your body. 

You’ve never been a sad person, even considering the things that have happened to you and around you.No matter the storm outside, you’ve always managed to keep the inside warm and cozy but now it seems all the doors and windows have opened and your once comfortable home is morphing into a prison. 

You’re not sure how long you're there, sitting just at the edge of your shitty base in the middle of god-only-know-where-underground but when you hear a set of footsteps approaching you, you hardly give them a second thought.

“Oh, hey,” you mumble as you look up and to a man in blue armor with the stupid black trim. 

“Your boyfriend ran off?” He asks, sitting down next to you and taking his helmet off. 

“Long story, how much time you got?”

“I got as much time as you need.” He shrugs. 

And you sigh because you might as well tell him everything and you can just feel you're both going to be here a while. 

——

_ You found this spot not too long after coming to Crows Nest. Before you promoted the entire base, it was just a place you knew for sure you could hide from the new bunch of practically rookies and just breathe.  _

_ You pull out one of the cigarettes you brought with you and light it up before you hear a rifle being cocked and see the oh so familiar color of a goddamn Blue Team member.  _

_ “What the hell are you doing here?” the voice is unfamiliar and you’re thankful because it means it's none of the blues you know.  _

_ You take off your helmet “What do you want, blue?” you say, fumbling for the lighter in your pocket. _

_ “What do you mean, what do I want? Get the fuck out of here!”  _

_ You finally get the lighter out of your pocket, light the cigarette,put the stick of nicotine between your teeth, and inhale deeply before letting the breath go in a puff of sweetly scented smoke.  _

_ “Why? It isn’t like you’re going to kill me.”  _

_ The blue swipes at the air like he can somehow smell it underneath that helmet.  _

_ “What makes you say that?” he asks, his grip tightening on his rifle. _

_ “Because you’re not even pointing that thing at me, do you even know how to use it?”  _

_ “Of course I do!” he snaps, correcting the position of his gun so it’s aimed at you. _

_ You roll your eyes and take another drag before standing up and thankfully he’s close enough that when you flick the remaining cigarette at him some of the ash lands on an obnoxiously shiny boot.  _

_ “Well, if you’re sure about that,” you step closer to him and you’re almost close enough that the barrel of his gun is almost touching your forehead “prove me wrong.”  _

_ His name is Sawyer, he is a little taller than you with short platinum blonde hair and hazel eyes, he has a chip in one of his teeth from an incident when he was a kid and he didn’t really appreciate your guys little game of chicken. When he tells you how scared he was that you were serious about him shooting you, you didn’t really have the guts to say that you were a little scared he would too.  _

_ “You are crazy!” he shouts “if I was someone else, you’d be dead right now.” _

_ You shrug and pop another cigarette into your mouth “I still had my side arm, I could have shot you dead.” You laugh because you know it's a lie but he doesn’t know that so he only gives a soft worried chuckle. _

_ “Lighten up!” You smile in his direction “I’m not always that much of an asshole,you just caught me off guard.” _

_ His chuckle is still stiff so you pull another cigarette and your lighter out from your pocket and pass it to him. He takes it and you both sit there for a while smoking and talking about how shitty this place is. _

_ “The people at my base are idiots!” He laughs. _

_ “I’m sure the idiots I know are worse.” You say definitely knowing you’re right. _

_ “Oh yeah,wanna bet?” He says. _

_ “There’s no bet, i was able to convince the rookie at my last base he would be able to buy elbow grease and headlight fluid.” _

_ He burst out laughing and so do you and you never thought donut would be useful for something, I guess you can add making friends to that short list. And after a short while of the two of you making conversation about whatever the topic might be it eventually dies out and you both have to leave.  _

_ “I gotta go,” he says getting up and putting out his cigarette “it was nice meeting you, Grif.”  _

_ “You too man.”  _

_ And honestly, you weren’t really expecting to see him again, until you come back here and he’s there waiting, like somehow he knew you’d be there.  _

_ “We have this weird thing going on, I doubt you wanna hear about it.” You flick some ash off and star out into the space between your base and his. _

_ “You’ve already told me this much, don’t leave me hanging.”  _

_ “You’re going to think it’s weird as hell.” _

_ “This war is weird.”  _

_ “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  _

_ He nods. _

_ “All this light skin and the green eye, they’re his, the last Sergeant at our last base replaced everything you see here and bit more with robotic parts.” _

_ His mouth has fallen in a gape of awe, the cigarette that was smoking is now smoldering on the ground and he blinks a couple times.  _

_ “Is that even physically possible?”  _

_ You laugh and shrug. _

_ “Who knows, man.”  _

_ ——— _

“So you just wanted to talk to him about how you felt? Because you two have been putting it off for almost four years now? And because you’ve both already kissed but like, somehow it didn't happen?” Sawyer asks. 

“Yeah.” You mumble, watching the ash slowly burn and fall onto the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly “maybe he just doesn’t deserve you.”and you’ll never know if it was meant to be just a friendly gesture that he placed his hand on top of yours because before he can finish the rest of his thought, you’ve turned to him and pressed your lips together. 

Maybe it was because it was so late at night, or because you were sad and lonely and he was there, being kind to you even if it was just for a moment or maybe it was because your head will fill with toxic smoke and sadness but really it might have just been that you sad and mad and somehow, even though you two were never anything, it felt like you had been broken up with and when Simmons walked away from you if felt like he was take enough of you with him, that you didn’t care what you did anymore.

And just like you’re kiss with Simmons you expect Sawyer to push you away or cause you physical harm, but he doesn’t. 

He kisses you back just the same and you thought it might stay there, except it doesn’t, you both keep going and before you can actually register what’s happening properly, you’re exhaling sharply and the sound is something akin to a moan. Warmth fills your body and the pleasure of it is overwhelming...but so is the guilt.

You know you two weren’t together but every time you come back to this spot and wait for Sawyer, you feel like you’re the worst person ever. 

It’s after one of these nights that you’re lying in bed, you’re gut still twisting from the guilt and orgasam that you realize there’s a soft tapping at your door. 

“hey,” the voice is quiet and slurred. “ I’m sorry I waited so long but I want to talk now.”


	8. Dont you remember when everything was simple.

There’s this story you wanted to tell about you and this idiot you met once in boot camp. He was annoying and pissed you off every chance he got but he also helped you through the lonely world of military training and made you feel accepted in his own special way. It wouldn't be till a lot later that you found out he did this because he was also someone that people looked down upon, even in the military. 

When the time came for you two part ways, you thought his gift to you was making you feel like a human again. You thought about him regularly, how beautiful his hair might look if it was only allowed to grow out fully. How his eyes were like pools of honey and his lips were just as sweet. He doesn’t remember kissing you that night, he was drunk and you didn’t really know where he got the alcohol in a place like this and you weren’t about to ask him, you just remember his rambling about his home, his mom, and how he’d never met someone like you, and you listen fascinated by his world that was in reality so very far from yours, that you didn't realzie that he had been leaning in close until you feel his warm breath on your lips and he says something stupid to you at the time.

“Your eyes are just so pretty.” And you would have laughed it off if he hadn't closed the gap between the two of you so quickly. 

He pulled away and you both laughed and after a moment, he asked you to stay with him for the night. You were scared by his request because you’d never done anything with anyone but you still accepted and thankfully, didn’t have to admit that to him just yet. 

In the morning when it was time to leave for your first assignments, you left his room without a word and you imagined that if he remembered this when he woke up, he’d never forgive you for leaving without a goodbye. 

The winters here are brutal, yeah but in the couple years you’d been here, there was never one this bad. You hadn’t been the first to know but eventually word officially came down that no one was coming to rescue you guys.

You were in the galley when the intercom crackled to life and you imagine it's because the Commanding Officer didn't want to face his crew directly and you can't really blame him.

“Good Morning Solstice outpost number three, i regret to inform you that as of this morning, command will be unable to deliver the winter rations due to weather conditions. It’s going to be a difficult three months but if we pull together and ration our supplies as per protocol, we will make it through this. Please, if any of you have any concerns, my door is always open.” 

The intercom dies and the silence in the room is penetrating. 

You don't realize that you’d never see any of these people again, that one day your Sergeant would go out into the winter storm, looking for the others and you’ll never know if it was an act of self sacrifice or suicide but you’ll always wish he hadn’t left you alone, half dead and curling up with the dog that CO loved so much. 

The dog’s name was Neo, he was a three year old black lab. One morning he wakes you up, with his food bowl in his mouth and soft hungry whimper. It’s three in the afternoon and you're worried because you’ve been waking up later and later everyday, Neo’s food rations are depleted and you know that soon you’ll both be dead.

“I’m sorry, boy.” you whisper to him turning the bag upside down to show him you’re not lying.

You don't know when you made the decision or how you executed it, you just know how disgusted you are with yourself, even to this day that Neo didn't make it to the end of that week.

When you finish the job of cleaning him and freezing every bit of him that would be considered edible, you go to your room and cry, how could you be so fucking selfish?

You survived that winter and when command finally reached you, they seemed fascinated by your high propensity for survival. They tested you both physically and psychologically in the coming weeks, and gave you a medal “For exceptional bravery in the face of inevitable odds.” 

They reassured you that your next base will not be in such a hostile environment. One month and the ship traveling at light speed later and you were in Blood Gulch outpost number one. With a clinically insane sergeant who reminded you of dad and that beautiful man who kissed you all those years ago the night before graduation of boot camp.

And all that brings you back to now, brings you back to standing outside of his room and this time you're the drunk one. You didn’t have the courage to do this sober, thankfully you know where those other idiots on this team try to hide their alcohol and maybe that’s how he got drunk back then, by knowing where to find the source . The bottle is bitter at first, it goes down like fire in your throat and it makes you wince. After an hour and many more drinks later and you’ve finished. 

Tonight, isn’t one of those nights when he leaves in the dead of night, at least you think. 

You think he’s there when you’re walking down the hall to his room. 

You think he’s there when you’re standing at his door. 

You think he’s there when you knock on his door, heart racing as you mumble out your half formed apology, “hey,” your voice is quiet and you can tell there’s a slur. “ I’m sorry I waited so long but I want to talk now.”

And you're sure he’s there when he opens the door and you through your drunken gaze, you can see him standing sleepily in the doorway. His out of regulation hair is out of its normal bun and hanging off his shoulder. 

Your fear is caged by the alcohol and you reach out to touch it, to run your fingers through it, it’s soft and warm and you rub it between your fingers, you don't know why you're so enamored by it, but it might be because, you were right, his hair is beautiful this way.

“Go to bed.” He says, like an order but makes no move to shut the door. 

You take a step forward and he takes a step back. 

It’s another one of those dances the two of you perform. 

Hand in hand but heads turned away. 

Eyes free to wonder but hearts locked away. 

Words spoken without consequence before your sentence is served.

One step forward. Two steps back. 

Hands that cup so perfectly in his warm face. Your guilt eating you away. 

“I know,” you try to say steadily, “I know I’m drunk but I can’t, I don’t know if I can talk to you any other way.” 

“why not?” he asks, just a beat above a whisper. 

You sigh “I might be too drunk to answer that.” 

One step back and you shut the door.

He takes two steps forward and the dance is reversed. 

You don’t step back.

His hands go to where they were when you two first did this. Softly at your lower back, you rest your arms on his shoulders this time your fingers tightly interlocked, his lips are pressed into yours and the rest is like muscle memory. 

“We can’t keep doing this.” He says a minute after you both needed air.

“I know.” You sigh, the feeling of courage quickly slipping away to the guilt in your gut.

He sighs and you press a soft kiss to his lips then to his jaw, and neck and soon you hear the soft breath of a moan working its way from his lips. 

Your hands move to pants and before you can get any further, he grabs your wrists and shakes his head.

Cold hard rejection fills your veins and can’t help that stupid angry comment from fumbling out of your lips.

“I guess you only want that Blue fucker to do that for you.” 

“No,” he lets go of your wrists when they’re safely away from him “because you’re drunk.” 

And yeah, maybe you’re drunk because next thing you know, all the emotions from the past who knows how long, erupts out of you like a volcano of tears and snot and all you want to do is yell at him.

“Why do you keep going back to him!” You shout and you know, this so goddamn cleich and you're not even together but all those nights have dug a hole in your heart and you have to know.

_ One step forward. _

_ Two steps back. _

“Because he’s there,”Grif says, his voice fighting not to tremble “and I’m tired of fighting.”

“I’m sorry!” You shout and have been more thankful for thick concrete between each room “I can’t explain it all, it’s too much, and it doesn’t even make sense to me and I just...I just don’t know.” 

He stands there for a moment and study’s you. His eyes searching for something in your features that he either can’t find or keeps finding. 

“Let’s just, go to bed.” He sighs.

‘Fine’, you think and turn for the door.

“Where are you going?” He asks, when your palm is on the handle. 

You turn to face him.

You realize something awful in this moment, for every step back you’ve taken, he’s followed, for every move you made he’s mimicked and for every challenge you’ve thrown in his way, he’s risen above to fight for you. 

Alcohol or no alcohol, a part of you knows he loves you, without him even having to say it. And despite that you’re afraid you’re just lying to yourself. 

“Come on.” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to his bed. 

You wipe your face and turn to face him, for the first time ever, you’re finally seeing him.

“Do you remember when we did this in boot camp?” You ask him through the small space between you.

“I do,” he says, “ i thought i was never going to see you again.”

“Why did you get drunk that night?” 

“Don't read too much into that, I was just trying to celebrate.”

“Of course…” you roll your eyes and you can already feel your head hurting in the morning.

“I was a little disappointed that you didn't stay in the morning.” He says, you see his eyes looking back thoughtfully.

You clench your hand and you feel the cybernetic parts whir with the motion and maybe alcohol and robotics don't mesh that well after all because the sounds make you sick and dizzy.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble and he closes the gap between you too kissing you again and this time it doesn’t catch you off guard as much and you kiss him back.

“It’s okay, I’m just so happy i found you, even though you’re still a kiss ass.”

He laughs a quietly at his own joke and you smile, your heart feels warm for a moment, the alcohol and kissing having burrowed a hole into the veil of interal misery that has followed you for so long now. If you could have seen all the shit that was coming next, you’d have given up all the military bullshit and run away with him right then and there but if you could see into the future, you’d probably done a lot of things differently. 


	9. Pulled by guilt

You guy never did have that talk instead you two fell into this weird in between. In between what you were and what you are.

He no longer leaves at night, in favor of you sleeping in his room with him, you never realized how simultaneously comfortable and annoying it is to sleep with another person, especially Grif. 

The room is small but you’ve removed a couple of items of clothes into his overstuffed locker so you can both pretend like it’s sharing the slightly larger room back in Blood Gulch. 

Nothing has changed right? You two sleep together a lot more closely now, he kisses you, you kiss him back, and you still change in front of him, pretending not to notice his lingering gaze in some daze and pretend you’re not watching when he does the same.

It’s weird in a way that one can go from pretending to hate someone for so many years to basically loving that same person in a matter of a night. You want to ask him some stupid question like ‘are dating? Am I your boyfriend?’ Or ever dumber shit like ‘do you love me? Is that feeling in my gut right?’ But you refrain. Instead of course you ask him a question that borders on Caboose levels of stupid. 

“What did you say to the um blue, about not showing up anymore?” You ask one night, you know he’s not asleep just yet.

There’s a long pause in between you asking and him answering and you think maybe he is asleep. 

“I just haven't shown up, obviously.” He says this as he gestures to you, his voice doesn’t sound mad, he doesn't sound so annoyed, or frustrated, he just sounds apathetic and although that might be normal for him, something about sets your nerves on fire with worry. 

“Oh.” What else is there for you to say? This is what you wanted right? You wanted him to stop leaving, you wanted him to choose you, everything you have you asked for, so why do you feel so guilty? Why does it feel wrong? 

It doesn’t come up again and although there’s no tension, at least from him, your anxiety about it fills you to the brim. Would it really have been that bad if he just kept going out? He doesn’t even know you’re a virgin, he’s going to find out eventually. Why would you do this to him? Why are you so selfish? Maybe this isn’t what you should be feeling sorry about. 

The silence between the two of you doesn’t last long and before you know it, you two are back at your normal bickering. It’s normally but strained in a way that can get so out of hand at times where the subject flips and flops and you wonder how you managed to fuck up so early into this um relationship.

It isn’t long before you’ve heard rumors that there’s a betting pool going to see how long it’ll take before the two of you kill each other. This pisses you for a multitude of reasons but you know that without any real authority, there isn't anything you can do. 

“You can't just do that! They are rules about not selling out shit to the enemy! ” You shout at him one day, giving in to the anger of this particular situation. 

“I mean, I already did.” He says, pulling out his datapad showing you the large amount of UNSC credits he couldn’t have possibly gotten from his military paycheck alone “plus rules are for nerds.” He looks at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Why would you even do that!” You can feel the confusion taking over the rage in your mind,they’re fighting for a place in the conversation.

“It’s not like anyone is going to notice, we do less fighting here than we did back in Blood Gulch and that’s saying something.” 

He shrugs and you think for a moment that maybe you should add your money to that betting pool and kill him right then and there.

“Ugh, look, I won't say anything to the troops. You’re lucky I love you, you idiot.” You don't realize that the words have slipped out before you’ve already said them and by then it’s too late.

He looks at you and you look at him, there’s a beat of silence and whether you both mentally agreed not to mention it, the conversation goes on, around the topic that just appeared because neither of you is ready to deal with that today.

——

You’re both standing before the firing squad, your short life passing before your eyes and in reality there’s one person who made this whole living experience even seemingly worth it.

“Any last words?” One of your men, asks, his rifle aimed squarely at you. 

“Yeah, fuck you guys!” Grif shouts.

“Alrighty then, ready, aim…” the random troop continues

“Wait wait wait!” You shout, you hear the distant sound of a warthog with your cybernetic ear and you think there’s a chance it might be worth stalling for. 

“Ugh, what…?” The troop says, you can hear the eye roll in his voice

“Shouldn’t we be allowed as last request? Or something along those lines?” You ask, hoping to god he’ll agree. 

“What would you even want?” The troop asks. 

“How about you suck my dick!” Grif shouts and you can feel the tension mounting and the trigger fingers itching.

“Grif, shut up! Can’t you at least read us our rights or something?” 

“You know what you did! He was in charge and ammunition and stole it,” he points to grif and then turns back to you “and you knowingly withheld this information from the rest of the squad.”

“It’s kind of ironic that you're going to shoot us to death when we’re limited on bullets..” Grif quips and he actually kind of has a point. 

“Shut up! You’re only delaying the inevitable!” Can that guy read minds?! 

“Okay yeah, that's true, but it's also true that you have to read us a list of charges. It's in the Red Army Handbook, section on firing squad!” 

“God, you’re going to die a nerd!” 

“Shut up!” 

“You shut up!”

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” You say, meaning it to be rhetorical and at least the two of you will go out arguing instead of cowering

“Seriously?” He says and looks down at the handcuffs binding his hands 

“Look, do you want to die in the next two seconds or do you want to die a nerd with me five minutes from now?” 

“Okay okay, fine, what he said!” 

“I think you’re bluffing.” The troops shouts but lowers his rifle regardless. 

“Trust me, he's not. He’s read that entire handbook cover to cover.” Grif confirms. 

The fire squad huddles up to discuss the conversation that was just had, you take this moment to inch closer to Girf. 

“Look, I know this is going to be our last moment together and I’m really sorry this happened.”

“Stop, you shouldn’t be the one to be sorry, this is my fault.” 

You sigh, you can’t disagree. 

“I just want you to know that-“

You’re cut off the pang of bullets in metal and sound of a fast moving object hitting a body, when you look up and see Sarge, you’re not sure if you died and when to hell or if he’s really here in person. Either way, you hate it. 

“Sarge?!” You and Grif shout in unison, not taking a moment to realize your handcuffed hands were still joined. 

“Simmons! Grif! There ya are!” He takes off his helmet to reveal a wide smile on otherwise normal face.

“What in the hell are you two doing?” 

“Uh being executed by our own army?” You say, it doesn’t take long for the impatience with him to return 

“I know that! I mean why in the hell are two you holding hands?”

You look down to see what’s gotten him so riled up, you and Grif exchange a look and maybe it’s because of how close you two have gotten or because of how little has really changed in the last year and half but you both jump back and pretend like it was all something done in the heat of the moment. 

“Where's yer commanding officer?” Sarge finally asks when thr awkwardness of the situation has passed. 

You point at Grif “Right there, sir.”

“Where behind Grif?” 

“No, Sergeant Grif IS our CO.” 

Sarge blinks and puts his helmet back on. 

“I don’t have time for this Tomfoolery! Gopack your things and inform your CO you’ll be leaving! Command has a very secret mission for us.” 

“I don't think he's physically capable of understanding what you're telling him. Let’s just get the hell out of here.” 

You agree and when you’re in his room together packing your things, you decide the two of you need to figure this out right the hell now. 

“You need to tell why you really sold all that ammo to the blues.” You're firm, there’s not going to a lot of alone time once leave here,

Grif bites his lower lip and sighs. 

“I was being blackmailed okay?” 

“Blackmailed how?” 

“That Blue didn't really take the whole rejection thing well and because somehow this army is still in the stone ages, I could get kicked out if any one knew about us.” 

And how could you not know that? How could you not know that technically from a military standpoint, this relationship was “illegal”? Hadn’t there been signs? Donut was so open yet he never said anything explicitly.

“I didn’t-“

“I know you didn’t. Neither did I until a couple months ago. I should have told you-“

You kiss him and he kisses you back, this might be the last kiss you two share for a while you want it to last, you want it to be real and to never end.

When the kiss does end and you’re left staring into his brown and hazel eyes, butterflies in your stomach and clouds in your head, you decide that now is as good a time as any to get this out of the way. 

“I know I’m responsible for most of this. We should have talked after Sidewinder, in the one who said we would,” you bite your lower lip “ I was angry at you and Sarge, I know you don’t understand but just try okay? None of this,” you run his fingers over the cybernetic pieces of you “ I can’t feel it, it’s not real…”

He doesn’t say anything at first and before he can there’s a loud knock on his door.

“Hurry up you two! We have to hurry!”

He gives you another kiss and maybe that’s the best you’ll both get for now.

———

“A fucking freelancer?!” Your anger swells to point you forgot existed when you hear the name Agent Washington “Sarge, why the hell are we getting caught up in Blue Team's shit again?!” 

“We’re not! We’re fouling their dastardly plans.” You roll your eyes and think maybe this is why Grif doesn’t give a shit about these things.

“Look, we already left, so we might as well go find him.” Grif says, and he’s right, you both still technically have treason charges in your name and going back would obviously be a death sentence. 

“Fine, where is the Freelance?” 

“Do you remember the place we ended up when Andy blew up and we went into the future?” Sarge asks.

“For the millionth time! We didn’t go into the future.” Grif replies, clear irritation in his voice. 

“Look, it doesn’t matter if we went into the future or not okay? Where the hell is the Freelancer and blues?” 

“I just told you.” Sarge says. 

“No, you didn’t, you just asked a question.” 

“And I was rudely interrupted.”

Suddenly the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop and you’re bracing yourself against the turret in an attempt not to fall off. 

“Grif! What in Sam Hill are you doing?”

“Look old man, if you’re not going to tell us what’s going on, Simmons and I are going to drop you off right here and leave.”

“That’s treason!”

“We already have that charge.” You chime in.

“Yeah, so hurry up and tell us what the hell is going on.” 

And only you are able to hear the scraping of Sarge’s teeth grinding together as his anger is clearly bubbling and you think back to something Grif once said  _ ‘Maybe it makes him feel better. I know I’d believe in anything to make myself feel better.’  _

The ensuing argument unfolds as expected and you know where you’re going to, Last Resort, the beachside death trap where you and Donut once spent a night or three on the beach talking about love and life. 

You wonder where he is now and wonder if he’d be proud of you and Grif for finally letting go of most of your bullshit to attempt whatever you two are. You have a lot of time to think on your way there and when your feet get sore, you trade places with Grif. At night when it’s quiet and you’re sure Sarge is asleep, he kisses you and you can’t help but wonder what worries his mind so much that he’d believe in this war or anything to feel better.


	10. Fill in the blanks

If anyone ever asked you what your greatest fear was, you’d make up some dumb shit like not napping long enough or there not being any Oreos in the pantry but what fear ironically haunted you the most was the fear of failure. 

You concealed this well when you decided ‘you can’t fail if you don’t try’ and for the most part, you were right. 

There’s just one hung thing you forgot about that had slipped your mind because of all the pressure of suddenly being in charge and trying to navigate your new relationship with Simmons. 

Kai.

You hate that your circumstance as children led you to having to raise her but you’ve always felt more like a parent to her than a sibling. When your mum was off at work or at home getting drunk, you were there taking care of your toddler sister. You thank god every day that you Mum had you two so far apart and even more so that she decided not to have anymore. 

You’ve always been there for her, you were her Santa Clause, Tooth fairy, and Easter Bunny all in one very exhausted middle schooler. You learned early on it was easier to steal money from your mum than to ask her for what you needed and sometimes wanted. When Kai got a low mark in school you forged your mum’s signature. When Kai wanted to go to learn to swim, the two of you spent two whole months walking to the beach with floaties and water boards learning the basics.

But then you turned eighteen and there was a war going on, you didn’t have to make a decision, there were hundreds of colonies with billions of other people who would be less tied down by familial responsibility. 

It was like fate that  _ it  _ happened, you’d been dating some boy and it had been a spotty relationship to say the least, you had family and he wanted more and more of your attention, what did you expect? every once in a while you brought him home, only on the nights you knew mum was out. 

You’d make sure Kai was asleep and you’d tell him to be quiet. It was almost like a game, how hard could you two go at it without making a noise? The answer? Not that much, but enough. 

Your mum walked in your room for who knows what and threatened to kill you if she ever saw that shit again. 

_ “The only freak in this house is me!” She’d yelled. _

Kai was too young to understand why you left a month later. You told her 

“The war is getting bad, kiddo. They drafted me.” 

Thankfully, she didn’t ask what that meant. 

“Will I ever see you again?” She asked, the beginnings of tears pricking the corners of her eyes. 

“Of course you will.” And technically you didn’t lie.

You remember how tight she hugged you before you boarded the Space Tether and didn’t see her again until she crash landed in that middle of a shitty canyon in the middle of nowhere.

_ “He probably passed out because of the heat and his robot parts trying to keep him cool but failing.” _

_ “Oh cool!! He’s a robot!! Doesn’t that mean he’ll be heavy?” _

_ “Cyborg but yeah so you’re going to need to help me okay? “ _

_ “I can do that! He’s kind of cute!” _

_ “Kai, now is not the time.” _

_ “Sooo what’s the deal with you too! Are you dating?” Kai asked once you two had gotten Simmons to his bed  _

_ “No!” You snap. _

_ “Relax big brother, I won’t laugh at you for dating a nerd.” _

_ “Kai, seriously.” _

_ “Fine fine,” she says, taking off her helmet. “When did you get all serious?” _

_ When you finally see her face, you’re reminded of how you left her behind and all the shit you missed in her life up until now. All you want to is pull her into a hug and tell her you’re sorry for lying, not that she’d know about what.  _

_ “Uh if you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of in a war.” You love her but you didn’t realize she could be this dense. _

_ “Yeah yeah I know. But like still, you seemed so stressed out.” _

_ “Uh? War? Did that not make it through your dense skull?” You reach over a softly knock on her head “hello? Anyone there?”  _

_ She pushes your hand away and you both start laughing.  _

_ “I always hated when you did that!” She says, a wide grin still on her face.  _

_ “You never stopped me from doing it!” You stick your tongue out at her.  _

_ And if you weren’t in this canyon in the middle of this war with that cute nerd in the other room passed out because his cybernetic parts overheated because he was burying his very much not dead Sergeant, then this might be fun and happy and you might have just let yourself smile at the sight of how much your sister has grown.  _

_ “So what do we do in this canyon, away?”  _

_ “We pretend to fight the Blues but mostly get caught up in their drama between Tex and Church.”  _

_ “Blues?” She says, her eyes searching your face for the punchline “you mean reds right?”  _

_ And Jesus fucking Christ how the hell could you forget that she was colorblind.  _

_ “Kai, what team were you sent to support?”  _

_ “Blue team.” She says quietly.  _

_ You sigh because of fucking course this would happen.  _

_ “Okay, then we’re going to have to get you to your real base.”  _

_ “I could just stay here,” She mumbles “it’s not like anyone else knows the truth.”  _

_ She has a point but you know it’s risky, considering the way Sarge abuses you, you couldn’t imagine what’d he do to her especially if he found out they were related.  _

_ “It’ll probably be safer if we didn’t.”  _

_ “Why?” _

_ “Because Sarge and Simmons will figure it out.” _

_ “Simmons is your nerdy robot boyfriend?” And if you were paying attention you’d see the smile creeping up on her face. _

_ “He’s not a robot!” You snap and instantly realize your mistake “and he’s not my boyfriend!” _

_ “Kai looks like she wants to laugh again but for either sake or yours, she keeps it in.  _

__

_ “How did that happen?” She asks after a moment of her trying to collect herself.  _

_ “It’s a long story.” You mumble.  _

_ “Well we have a lot of time.”  _

_ “No, you need to go to Blue Base.”  _

_ Of course Simmons had been eavesdropping but how much had he heard?  _

_ Thankfully at the time, not enough.  _

And now here you were present day once again ready to kill Sarge except Donut isn’t here to help Simmons hold you back. 

“So you stay back in that shitty canyon to harass my sister?! Why the fuck did you tell us she stayed there?”

“Look son, I can forgive you being a lazing good for nothing soldier,”

“Thanks.” You mumble balling your first getting ready to break his visor.

“But I cannot forgive you being related to one of those dastardly blues! I knew if I told you she wasn’t being relocated, you’d only stay to help her!” 

“Uh duh! She’s my sister!” You shout “and you’re a senile idiot who was oogeling her like she was a piece of meat! I’m sick of your bullshit!” 

You rear up to swing and you definitely would have, had you not felt the familiar blast of the shotgun against your armor and even more familiar thunk of your unprotected head on the floor. And god do you hope your sister never had to go through this.

“What the hell was that!” You hear Simmons shout over the ringing in your ears.

“What are you talking about! He was about to assault his commanding officer!”

“SERGEANT. Girf. Is. The. Same. Rank. As. You!” 

Sarge just stares at Simmons for a moment and looks down at you before jumping in the Jeep and shouting some nonsense about you being lazy. Your entire abdomen is in shocking pain as you look over the crest of your chest plate to make sure the old fool didn’t wound you through the armor’s shield. 

And judging by your own blurred vision and Simmons' relatively calm demeanor, you can only assume that you're not going to die this time. 

No matter what you or Simmons try to tell Sarge, the only reason the two of you are here in the first place is because yo I don’t really have anywhere else to go. So despite yourselves, you let him call the shots, only using your rank to tell him to fuck off when his demands become too much to ask for. 

“We’re going to ambush them, they'll never know what hit them!” There’s a wide smile on his face as he finishes laying out the details of his “brilliant” plan. 

It essentially, like all things with him, boils down to kill thr blues with the big gun and because you’re the only who apparently knows how to operate any of the vehicles and you’d rather not argue, you attempt to pay attention to the battle plan he wants you to follow.

“How do you even know where they’ll be?” Simmons asks. 

Sarge taps his head and smiles “I just do!” He says and winks. 

“Whatever, is that all? I’d like to get some sleep before we get ourselves killed.”

“Private Grif!” Sarge starts

“Sear- Ugh never mind.” You leave the planning area for the beach that’s near you. If you’re lucky, maybe the waves will drown out the ringing in your ears.

“I think you could spell it out for him and he’d still say it wrong.” Simmons says, as he sits down next to you.

“Yeah, well I don’t really want to put in the effort if it’s not going to do anything.” 

You hear a soft chuckle from Simmons. 

“Are you alright? It’s been a long time since that’s happened to you.” 

“I know, I’m fine.”

“Does it hurt?”

“I got shot in the chest with a shotgun point blank, I’m just peachy.”

You feel his fingers lace into yours and you turn to face him. 

“Dumb question.” He says, slowly closing the distance between the two of you.

“And you’re supposed to be the nerd.” 

No matter how many times it happens, you’ll never be able to get over the fact that this, for as long as it lasts, is your reality. His lips on yours, your hands interlaced and you can never really enjoy it because there’s always something else on your mind. 

——

You’ve never been a big fan of Freelancers, but even you have to admit that’s because most of your experience with them has been relegated to Tex. But now that you have this new one “the Meta” to deal with and Agent Washington, needless to say, you’re even less thrilled with their type of soldier. 

This time at least, you partially understand that this isn’t directly Church’s fault, okay back up, last time it was most definitely his fault and if you ever hear her name or see Tex again, you’re going to puke but this time, he seems just as much an unwilling participant as the rest of you and for what it’s worth, you actually feel bad for the guy.

“Hey,” you mumble “I’m sorry about your pet idiot, Simmons is going try and distract Washington while you do your weird ghost thing , okay?” 

Church’s nods and you imagine there’s a smile behind that helmet, “Thank you.” 

“Yeah man, hurry up.”

Church’s whole ghost bit always wigged you out, you’re sure what exactly, but something just doesn’t sit right about him being able to do that. 

“Wait, wait, Washington!” You hear Simmons calling after the black armored man.

“Oh hey.” You say gritting your teeth “Agent Washington.” 

“Drop the act, I’m not that stupid, what are you hiding.”

You sigh, what was the point in trying to lie?

“Just wait a bit.” You say, hoping Church isn’t too pissed when he’d done, the guy can be a real asshole when he’s mad.

  
  
  



	11. If you never had to see another Freelancer again

“Wait,” you say “when did that happen?” 

“Oh that’s a whole oth-“

“Wait a second, you’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?” Washington says and if his helmet wasn’t in the way, you’re sure he’d be giving you that glare Tex gave you when you guys “captured” her and attempted to interrogate her. Icy with narrowed eyes, like she could and would kill you at any moment. 

“No? What would make you say that?” You ask with as much confidence as your voice can muster, the thought of that memory filling your throat with bile. 

“Well for starters, you keep looking over your shoulder.”

“N-no I -“ 

“And you’re stuttering now that I called you out on it.” He adds. 

“I am-“ 

“So just cut to chase and-“ he cuts himself off, he pushes past you and walks over to where Grif and Sarge are. 

“Hey wait!” You shout chasing after him. And you think for a moment that if the scenario presented itself, would you and Grif be able to protect one another against another blood thirty Freelancer? 

You guess you both might just find out. 

“Wait Agent Washington!” You shout but it’s too late, he’s already talking to Grif and by the way he goes for his rifle, stops and almost goes again, before deciding to wait, you feel his cold glare once more and you wonder if you hit off more than you can chew. 

“When were you going to tell me about this!” Washington snaps as soon as the shimmering image is Church’s ghost appears from Caboose’s body.

“Look, Washington I can explain.” Church says, and even you can see the wheels in his mind turning with the lie getting ready to be spun up.

“I don’t want you to explain goddamn! I want you to tell me the truth!” And in a moment of blind fury that leaves even you stunned, the freelancer removes his helmet and throws it hard at the specter in front of them. 

“Okay okay okay.” Church puts his hands up in defeat and the soft echoing clatter of Washington’s helmet is all that is heard for a long moment as Church and Washington stare each other down. 

You’re not sure what you expected him to look like but you can’t say you’re too surprised. He has short blonde hair, that would almost resemble Donut’s if not for the difference in styles, his skin is pale like he never steps outside that armor and his eyes such a light blue they're almost grey, you’re not sure if it was the way the light reflected off them or just your imagination but you could have sworn he was holding back tears.

“Caboose killed me, back in the canyon,” Church begins 

“Wait, he killed you? Like killed, killed you?” Washington asks, disbelief replaces the anger in his features. 

“Yup!” Sarge interjects “and we came to an agreement where I’d build him a new body.” 

“More like we kicked your Red asses.” Church quipped.

“You kicked whose ass?” Sarge shot back, clearly enjoying himself. 

“Yeah, you totally gave up!” 

“We did not!” 

“Yes you did! And if you hadn’t Tex would have totally killed you all.” 

“Stop!” Washington interrupted “how did you build a body?”

“With the spare robot parts command sent us” 

“Aaaand that didn’t raise any red flags?” 

“I mean, it's a standard issue, isn’t it?” You ask.

“Are you serious?! Have you ever run into anyone else that has one?” 

And you’re actually given pause for a moment because no, you hadn’t, even at your last base you didn’t have one of those. 

“No.” You mumble and despite the helmets in your way, you and Grif exchange a quick look. 

“Exactly s-“ and you’re sure he would have explained everything right then and there but nothing is ever that easy in this war.

“So if they are so “rare” then why did command send us one when they shipped us out to Crows Nest?” 

“Hold a moment!” Church shouts “you went to Crow's Nest?”

“I was trying to use the spare parts to build a new robot helper.”

“Maybe one that can speak English.” Grif said and you couldn’t help but nudge him in the rib, because that opened up a whole new argument. 

“Red team sucks!” Church shouted like he was at a sporting event.

“At least our leader isn’t a robot!” Sarge shot back 

“No he’s just senile old man.” Grif quipped, your nudge doing nothing to persuade him to stop.

And before any other words of contempt could be thrown Agent Washington finally had enough. 

“Jesus Christ, stop it! I can’t take this shit anymore! No more bickering, you all have to be the most immature soldiers I’ve ever met!” 

“Sure we’re the immature ones.” Church said. 

“No, stop, that’s enough, you are all under orders to not speak unless spoken to!” 

“You can’t do that!” Sarge protested

“Yes I can.” Washington said cooly. 

“What rank are you?” Sarge demanded. 

And surprising everyone, Washington just laughed, like it was the best joke he’d ever heard. 

“You don’t get it, do you! Your “army” isn’t real, anything and everything you do is fake, it doesn’t change or mean anything. You’re just training troops, whose job it is to make sure the real soldiers aren’t falling behind on their skills.”

And for the second time that day, there was a long pause, before Sarge, who most likely didn’t accept this stared at the Freelancer but really what could he do? 

“Grif, Simmons, let’s go and fix up the Warthog.” 

And for once in a long time you and Grif followed him, wordlessly.

Washington came back after a while asking how the jeep was coming along. His words were short and he left little room for argument. So when he nearly demanded the Red Team follow him to chase after this “Meta” thing, you were surprised he gave in so quickly to Sarge’s demands. 

“What do you mean no?” Washington asked. 

“I mean, we’re not going to go chase after that thing.” Sarge said. 

“You have to! This isn’t an argument.” 

Sarge shrugged. 

“You haven’t even told us what rank you are what makes you think we’re going to go chase after that thing for no reason.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” 

“Sorry, but the last Freelancer we dealt with wanted this Meta thing and mostly didn’t bark demands at us like some roided up drill instructor.” Grif said. 

“And what did Agent Texas do then?”

“Kicked our asses, madedeals .” He shrugged. 

“Fine,” Washington said “let’s make a deal, you guys help me out with this and I’ll…”

“Demote Grif!” Sarge suddenly sprung back to life.

“Demote Grif.” Washington repeated back flatly “you are now Private First Class Grif, again.” 

And just like that, the Red team was once again helping out the Blues. 

——

In the short couple days you’ve known him, you learn two interesting things about this new freelancer that makes it easier for you to stomach him. 

One, he’s able to turn his personality on a dime. You thought this would be more unnerving but you start to realize, the longer you’re all forced to spend time together that the tough Freelancer act is just an act and the real “Agent Washington” is just as human as the rest of you guys. 

The second thing you learn is that he has an interesting relationship with Church. You’re not too confused by this because as you and Grif have come to accept, Church either was a Freelancer in a past life or he just has really bad luck.

“I’m not upset about the rank thing.” Grif says one night, when presumably everyone is asleep.

The six of you have been raiding base after base after base, you’re tired in a way you never thought possible, like no amount of sleep will make your eyelids any less heavy.

“No?” You ask quietly “I didn’t really think you were.” And that’s how you get Grif to open up sometimes, agree with him but also tell the truth. He hadn’t acted that upset and no matter how much you asked him, he always claimed to be “fine” you could only assume he was. 

“I just hate being caught up in all of this again.” He says. And if his head wasn’t on your shoulder and the Freelancer wasn’t sleeping too far to his left, you know he’d be glaring dagger at the paranoid man, right this moment. 

No one was allowed to drift too far from the group especially when you finally stopped to sleep. Washington was very strict on the “stay in my line of sight” rule, you guess that even applies to when he wasn't awake. It made you uncomfortable being this close to the group, especially at night when you and grif were supposed to just be together with each other, even if it was for a moment or two. 

“I know,” you mumble “me too, but what other options do we have?”

He shrugs and you sigh.

“Don't you think it's kind of weird that Church can do that?” He asks after a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, besides him and Tex, why didn't anyone else come back as a ‘ghost’?” 

And you really had to smile, because no matter what Washington though, the only real idiot here was Caboose. 

“ maybe they have unfinished business.” You offer. 

“Okay, sure but didn't Wyoming have ‘unfinished business’?” 

And yeah that would make sense 

“How could he kill us a ghost though?” You ask.

“Well they’re able to possess people.” He says

“True, but if he wasn’t able to kill us and them with all his fancy freelancer technology and A.I., what makes you think he’d be able to do it as one of us?” 

He shrugs again and you almost feel how tired he is in that tiny gesture.

You sigh and softly kiss the top of his forehead 

“Goodnight.” You mumble and says he says something back that sounds like “goodnight” but was too garbled by his tired mind.

——

Over the next few weeks the six of you have been searching base after UNSC infested bases, for what Washington keeps referring to as the “the Alpha”.

“Okay,” Grif says one night after Washington “debriefs” them on their next target “what the hell is this Alpha you keep talking about?”

“It’s like the main A.I.” Church says before Washington can tell Grif to shut up.

“What do you mean by that?” You ask this time.

“What he means is,” Washington answers this time “ is that at its conception, Project Freelancer was only given one A.I. to conduct its experiments with and there’s a rumor that in order to bypass the Director’s “need” for more and the UNSCs unwillingness to give him more, he split them into multiple pieces, Delta the A.I. the Meta stole at last resort, was one of those pieces or fragments.” 

“So we’re searching for the Alpha.” You say “and why is that?”

Washington bites his lip and know that what he’s about to say next is either going to be a lie or deflection. 

“We know the Meta won’t be able to resist trying to get his hands on it.” Church says for him, and you’re starting to wonder why he knows so much more than you or anyone else.

“Yeah, what he said.” Washington agrees but you can still see the wheels in his head turning, you know that look, it’s the look you had days after you were recovered from the Arctic Base, the look you see permanently etched into Sarge’s features, the look that Grif sometimes gets and you don’t know how to or maybe don’t want to snap him out of it. 

You thought before that the rift between who all of you are and who Washington is was infinitely deeper than it really is. Because when it all comes down to it, you’re all soldiers who’ve fought in a brutal war, you’re all men fighting to stay alive even though it’s over and you’re all here doing the only thing you know how to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for anyone who is actively reading this, i think what I’m going to do (mostly because i have the worry that this is becoming too much of a series recap) is I’m just going to take the blank moments from this chapter on and write my own sort of interpretation of what might have happened considering I’ve already mettled so much with the original plot 😅


	12. Obviously, you don’t  care what i think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You cant just get over how easily everyone has taken to Washington.

You weren’t really surprised when Washington showed up again and started wreaking havoc on all of your lives again.

Freelancers never really stayed dead or gone or whatever happened to him and when they showed up eventually, they always came back with a fury. At least, that’s what happened with Tex.

You weren’t surprised when you found out Church was actually an A.I. because in an annoying way, Washington was right, it explained a lot about him, except for his shitty attitude. 

And yeah enough of it made sense that you were able to fully grasp what had happened in the last year or so, even though most of it seemed like an unbelievable science fiction story, you might not have been the sharpest knife in the stake but you definitely weren’t Caboose and even he understood the basics of what happened, even if he was having a difficult time emotionally handling it

What did surprise you however, was when the Blues adopted Washington and acted like he didn't just spend the last year and a half putting everyone’s life in danger just so he could go to jail and come out just try and kill you all.

“So you and Simmons?” Tucker laughed, taking a drag on his cigarette. 

“Shut up.” You say, not out of embarrassment but out of concern that the wrong person might hear. 

“Chill out, dude, I’m not going to out you like that.”

You roll your eyes, you’re not embarrassed, you're scared and even though he doesn’t have to live with that, he should know there’s a difference..

“Yeah, it was a lot more difficult than it should have been.”

“Of course it was, you’re both idiots.”

“It’s more than just wondering if he felt the same, so chill out with the insults.”

“Whatever, man. I’m not going to be getting myself tied down like.”

“Says the guy who adopted a Freelancer.” You say a little too harshly. 

“Listen, it just,” Tucker sighs, “look man, I really don’t want to deal with Caboose alone, especially after Church just disappeared like that and this guy is willing to make up for the bullshit he put us through, even if it means by babysitting the local idiot.” 

“Okay, but that doesn’t change the fact that he tried to kill us more than once, he attacked the bases with the Meta and that he killed Donut!” Where did all this anger come from? 

“I thought you hated Donut?” Tucker asks, trying to avoid the conversation

“That’s not the point!” You shout, accidentally dropping your cigarette.

“Then what is the point? Because all you’re doing is bitching right now, you don't even have to live with him, you don't have to wake up and every once in a while deal with his meltdowns!” And you kind of hate the way Tucker has been ever since he got reassigned to do ambassador duty with his alien kid and come back acting like, well he’s kind of been acting like Church.

“The point is, you’re a fucking idiot for letting him stay here at all.” You growl at him. 

“I’m not exactly happy about this either.” You hear Washington’s voice say calmly and ice runs through your veins. 

You turn to face him, you all have only been here a few months and Valhalla during the winter isn’t the sunniest of places, so you’re surprised to see that there’s color in his cheeks and face, so much so that you’re able to more definitely see the scars that he’s collected over his time in service.

“That isn’t the point,” You say “you put us all in danger for your own personal gain. You say you’ve been “betrayed” and “backstabbed” but really I’m starting to wonder if that was all an act to get us feel sorry for you, because you’ve done nothing for us except drag us from our home and make us miserable.” 

“Grif, just get out of here.” Tucker says before Washington even has the chance to reply and even though he won’t admit it right now, you all know you’re right.

So you leave, not before spitting at the ground near Washington’s feet and you feel both their eyes on you your entire way back to red base.

——

“I just don’t understand why Tucker trusts him!” You throw your free hand into the air a little too dramatically even for you.

“We could just leave, if you’re so unhappy.” Simmons says to you that night after you tell him about what happened. 

“And where would we go?” You ask.

You don’t really know why you’re so angry about all this. Honestly you think it’s some combination of relief that the Meta didn’t kill Simmons while you and Sarge were gone combined with the very real anger at Washington for bringing him there. He spent enough time with you all, prior to trying to kill you guys, to know that a lot of what you do isn’t planned, so how could it be malicious?

No one here had a reason to hate him before, he was just another Freelancer that stepped into their lives and played temporary leader before leaving and only coming back with his pistol trained on you, almost like Tex and you hadn’t really been this angry with her, because the only reason she even came to the canyon was because of Church and he was gone now and the chances you or anyone would ever see him again were astronomically low. 

And now the only real remnant of him was Tucker who inherited his bad attitude and Washington who keeps trying to make up for his action by playing the role of a timid puppy and it was endlessly pissing you off and it just doesn’t make any sense. 

“Grif?” Simmons is looking at you, with what you can only assume is confusion, the moonlight didn't find its way into this room as well as back at the last base so it made it hard to tell.

“Yeah?” You ask quietly, not realizing you’ve drifted off again. 

“I said, we could always go back home.”

“That’s a dumb a idea.” You say before it can go through your mental filter.

“Sorry…” he mumbles and you can feel his grip on your hand loosening with embarrassment. 

“No,” you say softly squeezing his hand. “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, where would we go?” 

You feel him shrug and you regret shutting him down like that. 

“Why do you think Wash did this to us?” You ask after a long moment of silence has passed and sure he’s not asleep. 

You have to admit it's kind of a vague question and you doubt he’ll really be able to answer it but he’s smart, possibly the smartest person here and it might be a selfish ask but if he can't answer it, it’ll make you feel less lost in this situation and if he can even if it isn’t accurate, it’ll make you feel safer knowing he’s still sure about something. 

“I don't really know.” He begins “I know he told us  _ “why”  _ but maybe it’s because he thought he was doing the right thing at the time. If what he was saying about Project Freelancer was true and what they did to him and the others, including Church was true,” he stops, words trailing off like he just thought of something else to say “maybe he isn't the enemy, Grif.” 

“How can you be so sure?” You ask.

“I’m not.” He says. 

And he gave you almost exactly what you wanted, you feel guilty for having asked because even though it made you feel better it didn’t make you any less angry. 

“do you ever wonder why we’re here?” You ask.

He kisses you in reply and you’d take that over a ‘shut up, Grif.’ any day.

_ It’s not difficult to identify the corpse, the maroon armor and still twitching robotic parts give it away.  _

_ Name: Richard Simmons  _

_ Age: ~~27~~ _ ~~_~~Earth~~ Years old _ ~~ __

_ Rank: Corporal  _

_ Living known relatives: None _

_ Planet of origin:  _ ~~_ Circinius IV  _ ~~

_ Planet of enlistment: Earth  _

_ Cause of death: Shot in the head by Freelancer Agent Washington. Agent Washington was sent ~~on a mission~~ _ ~~_ to recover the Epsilon A.I. of Project Freelancer. _ ~~ __

_ The current whereabouts of Agent Washington are unknown along with  _ ~~_ Agent Main (the Meta) _ ~~ _ whose whereabouts are also unknown. _

_ You stare at the report given to you guys by red command. You’ve read it over and over and over again. You’ve read it so many times you have it memorized, except for the redacted parts but you can assume what those say to know what they say, what privacy do the dead need anyway?  _

_ Your room is empty now and you don’t know who you hate more, Washington for killing him, Sarge for making you leave, or Donut for not being the one who's dead.  _

_ You haven’t spoken a word since coming back Valhalla, Washington and the Meta got Church and Tucker and Caboose haven’t returned from the sandy place. You know who you should care about them possibly being dead. But when you close your eyes they join just the ever growing number of people who have died in your life.  _

_ “I’m going to be leaving.” You tell Donut. _

_ “What do you mean?” He asks, he hasn’t been his normal chipper self since… _

_ “I just,” you sigh “I’m going to go get my sister and take us home, I can’t handle this war anymore.”  _

_ He just looks at you and you wonder if he knows how much you loved...and how you can’t even think about him without feeling a stab of pain in your chest. _

_ “be safe out there.” He says except it isn’t him, his voice distorts into a familiar voice and you feel a burning sensation in your throat, like bile has risen and suck there.  _

_ You look down and you see Kai, her childish face mashed with Donut’s features. You almost scream at the sight.  _

You don’t wake up with a start, you don’t wake up screaming or with a jump. Your eyes simply flutter open like it would at any normal dream. You look over and see Simmons, his back is turned to you but breathing clearly indicating he’s definitely asleep. 

You get up and quietly dig around in the draw near your side of the bed for those cigarettes that are keeping you sane. It’s four in the morning and you only have an hour before Simmons is awake.

You hate how nice this place is compared to the canyon. You decided that the place you were least likely to get caught was closest to the crash and even though it’s cold as hell, you take your shoes off and deep your feet in the water. 

“Do you ever wonder why we’re here?” You mumble to stars, blowing a cloud of smoke in their direction. 

And they stay quiet, either choosing not to answer you or are unable to.

“Yeah, me too.” You say blowing another cloud of smoke into the air. 


	13. It was only a matter of time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For someone actually speaks Spanish irl, writing Lopez’ 3 seconds of dialogue using google translate hurt my soul lol also i THINK the next chapter is going to be the end of it all.

“No!” Grif shouts “absolutely not.”

“This isn’t a choice.” Caroline snaps. 

“Lady, I don’t give a damn.” 

“Lady!” She looks like she’s ready to kill him and ironically it’s Washington that stops her. 

_ When Carolina first arrived, you assumed she was just there to collect Washington and leave, you never really thought his plan was well thought out, it isn’t like an army in the middle of an intergalactic war could be that stupid.  _

_ “I guess they finally found him…” Grif said as the two of you watched the Freelancer enter the Blue Base.  _

_ You both assumed he was taken and that all your troubles had ended there, until the day Washington came to Red Base, weaponless and without his armor. _

_ “She wants us all to help her find Church.” Washington shouts at Sarge from the bottom of the base.  _

_ “Why? It isn’t like we need a leader.” You hear Grif mumble next to you.  _

_ You have to admit that for once, Grif is right, Sarge may not be the most competent leader but he was a leader nonetheless and no matter how hard Washington tried, he’d never fill the role Church left behind.  _

_ “What kind of trick is this, Blue!” Sarge shouted from the rooftop, you and Grif are watching from the hill closest to the base, you can tell Grif is debating whether or not he should confront Washington or not, by the way he shifts from one foot to another. _

_ “Not a trick,” he said, “and I’m not a blue!”  _

_ You couldn’t hear Sarge’s reply and you could only assume he made that weird noise he makes when he’s  _

_ trying to think.  _

_ “We’re not going.” Grif snapped and you just then realized that he wasn’t next to you.  _

_ Washington locked eyes with Grif’s visor and for once Sarge kept his mouth shut.  _

_ “You’ve caused us enough trouble,” Grif began, his voice a little shaky “so you can tell whoever that other Freelancer is to get lost!”  _

_ Washington nodded and slowly stepped away from the base, hands up in a sign of defeat.  _

_ As much as you hate to admit it you were actually surprised he didn’t put up more of a fight and even less surprised when Carolina showed up at the bottom of the base making the same demands Washington had not less than a day ago. _

“You guys don’t have a choice!” Her voice was hardened and even now you still hear the pure annoyance she felt at Grif’s uncooperative nature.

“I don’t care!” Grif says he isn’t in his armor, completely vulnerable to an attack from her.

“I don’t care if you don’t care.” She sounded kind of childish herself “I’m not asking you, I’m  _ ordering you _ .” 

And for once you’re happy Sarge stepped to almost get killed because you’re not sure how much longer her already thin patience would’ve lasted. 

“Now wait just a second! You’re one of those Freelancers, just like Washington.” 

“Yes. I’m Agent Carolina,” she turns to Washington “Agent Washington should have told you that.” 

Carolina and Washington share an exchange and in that moment of distraction, you jog over to Grif and wish he had his helmet on so you lecture him right now.

“What do we get out of this, if we help you?” Sarge once again breaks up a heated argument 

“You and your useless squad, get to live.” She punctuates that last word and Sarge get the que to drop it.

“Fine, when are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow, 0600.” She says 

Sarge nods slowly and you think you hear Washington sigh in relief. 

When she and Washington finally leave, you get a familiar feeling in your chest as you think you can see the rage radiating off her in waves, in a canyon full of wildfires, Carolina is an active volcano. 

——

You were almost worried by how calm Grif was after that entire exchange. And when you got to your shared room and he finally looked you in the eyes, you were able to tell why and your lecture died before it even had a chance to live. 

For all Grif’s anger out there, he was completely burnt out on the inside. His relaxed nature doing nothing to put out the flames of guilt and regret that had been building in his mind ever since he left for boot camp. 

“He’s going to get us killed.” He says, his voice is quiet and his hand is tightly gripping yours. You know there's more he wants to say but either can’t or won’t. 

You don’t know what to say to comfort him because you can’t be sure if he is right or wrong, so instead of saying anything, you pull him into a hug and decide that silence is better than possibly lying to him.

You don’t exactly know when the hug turned into a kiss or when the kiss got so deep, he was straddling your waist and you were tasting something might have been the cigarette smoke he tried to hide from you. 

You don’t know when he stripped you out of your armor or who shut and locked the door, you don’t know when all the blood rushed away from your brain, making you dizzy and hardly able to think clearly.

All you know for sure is you feel his hands slowly remove the fabric that is separating the two of you before you feel the rush of him touching you in a way you’ve only ever touched yourself.

You should have been feeling exhilarated because this was something you’ve wanted to have with him for so long now but you were scared for the exact same reasons. 

“I-I,” you gulp hard because you’ve never done this before and you’re scared to ruin it “I’ve never done anything like this before!” You shout at him and you don’t know if you sound angry or in a tone that was simply meant to get his attention.

He stops and looks at you, you can tell he’s not thinking straight either, just by the look in his eye, and you’re astonished for a moment of clarity in the haze of this, by how much you know him. 

“We can stop.” He says moving to get off but you softly grab his wrist and shake your head and a smirk moves across his lips. 

—— 

In the morning, when your bags are packed, weapons are loaded, armor is back on and your brain still foggy, you and Grif meet the others at the rendezvous point. 

_ “I love you.” You told him before leaving the room.  _

_ And you heard him sigh softly in his helmet as if to prepare himself to reciprocate.  _

_ “I love you too.” he says, softly squeezing your gloved fingers.  _

You can tell how this journey is going to go as soon as you crest the hill into the middle ground between bases. 

Carolina barking order, Washington complying with said orders, and the rest of you basically there only as cannon fodder. 

“Hey, Tucker, what's going on?” You hear Grif ask.

“I don’t know, but she’s been a bitch all morning.” Tucker grumbles 

Their conversation fades as all the vehicles are started and they drift away from the group, no doubt to smoke. 

“Heyyyy, wher-“

“Just leave it alone, Caboose.” You say before he can start a big fuss about it. 

And maybe having Chruch around will make things go back to normal. Maybe once Chruch is back you’ll all just be able go back to living your normal lives or even better, you’ll all be able to go home and attempt to put this war behind you. 

The trip is awkward and quiet, none of you really know where Carolina wants you to go, just that she said 

“Follow my vehicle.” And put Washington at the end of the miniature convey to assure none of you attempted to leave.

It isn’t until you’re on the path that Washington took you all that first go around that you realize where you all are headed and it doesn’t really settle the uneasiness lurking in your stomach. 

“is she crazy?” Grif asks blankly and you know that he has come to the same conclusion you have “they’ve definitely beefed up the security since we were last here and...now that they have the Epsilon thing.” 

“I don’t know,” you say thankful it’s only the two of you in the warthog “let’s just hope she has a plan.” 

When you all arrive just a couple miles from the out post, Carolina abruptly stops and you all almost crash and end the mission right then and there.

You hear Washington before you see him 

“Carolina, what the hell are you doing?!” 

“We’re almost there.” She replies.

“Yeah! You couldn’t have let us know you were about to stop?”

They have a staring match for a moment and you can only really assume that the rest of this conversation is going on, on their private channel because abruptly the conversation goes from ‘why did you almost kill us?’ To ‘we need to know who’s going to be trying to get Church out of that unit.’

“Lopez and I probably have the most experience with these A.I.” You say.

“Then you two are with Wash and I.” 

Grif grabs you by the shoulder and if his helemet wasnt on, you’d assume he’d be trying to communicate ‘what the fuck are you doing’ so you answer him before the others get suspicious on why you’re lagging behind.

“I just want to get this over with, she was going to find out one way or another.”

He nods but you can tell he’s still weary.

The sound of gunfire and Carolina breathing down your neck do absolutely nothing for your concentration. You can hear Washington and her arguing in the background and the communication barrier between you and Lopez is giving you a migraine only challenged by the ones you used to get when you first got your new eye installed. 

“Shut up, both of you!” You finally shout when their argument has come to a head. This isn't the time or placed for you all to be at each other’s throats. 

Both Washington and Carolina face you, even Lopez stops the task you both were given. 

“I don’t have time for you to mouth off,” Carolina begins “either go back to working on the Epsilon unit or GET. OUT.” 

You don’t really know what came over you in that moment, maybe it was just all the stress of the last few years of your life mixed with the silent resentment that’s been building up at Red Base ever since Washington showed up whatever it was, you pull out your side arm and aim it at the Epsilon unit.

“No, Carolina, you get out.” 

Washington moves to do something, you’re not sure, but you never find out as Carolina actually listens and goes outside the facility to help the others. 

“santa mierda tienes algunas bolas” you hear Lopez say. 

And Washington is just gawking at the door. You’re not a badass so you know that if you guys survive this, Carolina will probably kill you.

Getting Church out of the Epsilon unit isn’t easy even with one distraction temporarily gone. The unit is old and failing fast, but you and Lopez eventually get into the rhythm of carefully cracking open the casing to search for interior storage that has Epsilon. 

It’s astounding to look at, from what you can tell, the amount of interior processing units that are working at once, indicated by the eerie light it’s admitting, tells you that Epsilon is running multiple simultaneous simulations at once. Either he’s a very powerful A.I. fragment or this unit isn’t as damaged as you initially assumed. 

“How’s it looking?” Washington asks after a long stretch of relative silence. 

“Fine, we’re just trying to find the  _ actual  _ fragment.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Washington asks. 

And you’d have explained to him what you meant except a sudden explosion and the clacking of boots on the metal floor put you all back into a rigid focus. 

And even if you manage to survive the next ten minutes, you know Carolina will definitely kill you. 

  
  
  
  



	14. An idiot could have seen that coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did we end up here, in this canyon, together, after everything we’ve been through.

When Washington proved himself to be a capable soldier and a trustworthy person, you didn’t think he’d start that journey by literally saving your life. 

“Look out!” You heard him shout as he shoved you out of the way of the incoming gunfire, nearly taking a bullet himself in the process.

“Listen to me okay,” he says through the pings of bullets on the metal door “I don't really know how long that door is going to last but you and that robot need to hurt up in getting Epsilon out of there!”

“No shit.” You say before turning to go and help Lopez, theoretically you should be more grateful that you’re not dead but this is a high stress situation and you didn’t need him telling you something you already knew. 

Getting Church out of there was a difficult process, the amount of simulations he was running were astounding and dangerous, removing him at the wrong moment could damage his core. 

If your life was a movie, this moment would be as cliche as any, moments before the door is busted down, the shimmering image of Epsilon’s AI avatar appears before you, very much unchanged from when you saw him last. 

“Simmons?!” He shouts as you pull him out “what the hell is going on!” 

That was a bit of a loaded question, so instead of answering his question, you place his data core into a memory chip.

“Getting you out of here.” You say, deciding to not give him the opportunity to make this situation any worse than it already is. 

When you, Washington, and Lopez finally manage to fight your way outside of the base and catch up with the others, you notice a stunning lack of Grif and Caboose. Your heart skips a beat or two and before you can betray your relatively quiet facade, Washington asks the question that was well on its way out of your mouth.

“Where are the others?” He asks. 

“Working on extraction.” Carolina replies.

And you let out the breath of relief that you hope that didn’t notice. 

“Where is Epsilon?” She asks, not turning to face you.

And in your moment of panic over your potentially lost someone, you forgot that you threatened the deadliest person in this group no less than a couple hours ago. 

“Here.” You say handing her the memory, not letting your voice reveal the amount of fear soaked adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins. 

She takes it from your hand and places him in her armor’s storage unit. You sigh once more in relief, more worried about if she’ll make good on her threat than the bullets currently whizzing past your head.

When Caboose and Grif finally arrive, your heart has nearly given out from the amount of emotions you were cycling through. 

“What took you so long?!” Carolina shouts at them.

“Getting shot at without any support isn’t exactly easy.” Grif says. 

“We don’t have, ugh,” you’re able to hear the frustration in Carolina’s already frustrated voice “everyone get in the vehicles.” 

That’s the thing that scared you most about Carolina, no matter how angry she was, she never cursed or even really yelled. Her anger and annoyance came from the place of being able to kill every single one of you without breaking a sweat and not being able to because you were all, at the moment, better to her alive than dead. 

——

“You’re a fucking idiot!” Grif says as he hugs you tightly.

It’s night, Washington was able to convince Carolina to stop and “let the Sim troopers rest.” 

The two of you having done waited long enough for the rest of the group to be asleep, that you find these moments to be together, safe. 

“I know,” You say softly, thinking how ironic it is that you’re about to be on the receiving end of a lecture “but keep your voice down, okay.” 

Instead of being lectured, the two of you stand there for a good moment embraced in each other, hands locked tightly around each other in a hug that’s only real meaning is ‘I don’t want to even think about loosing you again.’ 

Your cybernetic ear is listening around for any movement if someone comes to disturb your guys peace. 

“She was so pissed that you did that,” he begins, “why did you do that?” 

“I don’t know…” you breath “it just happened.” 

“We didn’t have to come…” he says. 

“You know why we did.”

“I know...but what makes you think it’ll work anyway?”

You shrug “it’s better than nothing, right.” 

He sighs and you feel the way his body goes from rigid and ready to try and convince you to leave, to relaxed enough that you know he won’t. 

You lean in to kiss him and it’s only then that you notice the chunching of rocks on boots.

“Uhm…” Washington stares at the two of you who have never actually prepared for a situation like this and are still embraced in a close and unmistakable manner.

“Washington, it’s uh..” you stutter out. 

_ Don't just stand here you idiot, do something!  _

“If you’re going to say ‘it’s not what it seems like’ I’ve got to say, that’s not going to work.”

The three of you stare at each other for a long uncomfortable moment and the fact that you and Grif have yet to separate, is very much not helping any case the two of you can build that this most definitely did not happen in the way he might think it did.

“What are you doing?” Washington asks after the uncomfortable moment has passed.

“What kind of fucked up question is that, don’t you know what a hug is?!” Grif says a little too loud for your taste.

“Grif,” you say through gritted teeth “keep it down.”

“So are either of you going to tell me what the fuck this is?” He says wildly gesturing towards the two of you.

“Well what does it look like, Agent Washington?” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat and staring in directly in the eyes. 

“I know what it looks like, it’s just...” Washington bites his lip and sighs “look, you’re going to have to be more careful, Carolina is very insistent on following  _ all  _ the rules and if- “ 

“Yeah, we know Carolina is a hardass,” Grif says “but the real question is, are you?” 

“No, no, no.” He dramatically puts his hands in front of himself as if to defend himself from the accusation and it almost reminds you of Donut, ironic considering who you’re talking to “i mean yes but, okay look I’m not going to uh intrude on this but I need to ask you both a important question.” 

The both of you just stare at him, waiting for him to ask, thankfully he gets the hint. 

“Why did you two come with us?” 

“That isn’t any of y-“ you cut Grif off before he has a chance to escalate this situation beyond repair.

“So you heard that too?” 

He nods and you wonder how these Freelancers manage to be so fucking quiet. 

“We’re in some deep shit with the military.” You mumble out.

“Like….?” He says, his look growing more weary by the second 

“Treason.” The two of you say in unison.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah but you’re not really in a position to judge, are you?” You say, knowing full well he was just in jail and the two of you were just going to be executed. 

He shakes his head. 

“Why were you spying on us.” You say, trying to phrase it more like a statement than a question. 

Grif shifts and almost turns to look up at you, as if to ask ‘what are you getting at?’.

“What uh, what do you mean?” Washington asks as if his unreliable tone didn’t give it away, his expression did. 

“I mean Carolina, she wants you to spy on us? Right?” 

“Why would you think that?” 

“Because I know if I can trust you, then she must too.”

“You trust me.” He snorts, trying to laugh but doing a poor job.

“I know I can trust you, because you saved my life back there-“ 

“He did?” Grif asks, because you didn’t get the chance to tell him about that part. 

“Yeah, he did, “you say to Grif, staring at Washington “ he risked the Epsilon unit to push me out of the way of a bullet.” 

The two of you fully separate, unlinking your hand from his, you walk up to Washington. 

It seems that even counting the Blue Team, you're just a little bit taller than everyone here, including Washington but even high is no match for his years of specialized training, you’re very well aware he could kill you, should he call your bluff.

“I’m not going to threaten you,” you say “but you need to understand something, I’d do almost anything for him, even put my life at risk, so please we need to know if we both can trust you to keep this between the three of us.” 

“I know how you feel,” Washington says, staring back at the camp and then to you, “I won’t say anything but the two of you need to be more careful.” 

You both nod at each other, a silent agreement. 

And as soon as he’s out of your line of sight, the build of anxiety from the day's events releases through the contents of your stomach. 

“Whoa! Simmons are you okay?” 

You nod as the last of the bile has exited your body but the tight uneasy feeling still lingers deep in your chest. 

“yeah, let’s get back to the others, okay?” you say. 

You both knew you were no match for him and you were an idiot for trying to step out of your position as ‘team nerd’.

——

Believing anyone is actually dead these days is pretty difficult, considering how many times anyone who died keeps coming back from the supposed dead.

When you all came back to Valhalla, you initially assumed it was because, you were done, you’d gone everywhere Carolina wanted you to and if they didn’t find anything in Tex’s crashed Pelican, who cared? She had Church now and like she was so fond of tell you all, you were useless soldiers, expendable at the drop of a hat.

“It was crazy!” You listen as Donut regalis you the story of how his head shot wound was very nearly fatal “I guess I was just in a coma of sorts and when Fra-uhm when Doc got back here, he uknow saved my life.” 

You laugh to yourself as you can’t help but notice how the pink in Donut’s permanently red face grows a little brighter. If you thought you were bad at keeping a secret than he was way worse but you’re not about to call him out on it. 

“So you’re going to stay here with him?” You ask, dancing around the real question.

“I don’t think I was ever really cut out to be a soldier.” He says, softly touching the scar left by the plasma grenade.

“I don’t think any of us are.” You sigh, staring back at Red base, 

“I’m going to miss you guys.” He says and you really hope he doesn’t cry.

“I’m going to miss you too.” You say and he wraps you in a awkward hug 

“Hey uh Donut..”you say. 

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let you go in favor of just looking up at you.

“I’m sorry for the way I yelled at you, back in Blood Gulch, I really wish we could have been better friends.” 

He hugs you tightly and starts to cry, you hug him back, because this might be the last time you ever get to see one of your closest friends in all of this mess. 

——

“I understand what you mean, but we’re not going to go with them, are we?” Grif asks when you finally make your way back to each other. 

You’re both standing at the water's edge behind your old base, it’s always been Grif’s favorite spot and you told him once how weird it was that it is that he likes the water as much as he did considering he grew up on an island. 

_‘Where milk costs over five credits?!’_ _you said very much exaggerating._

_ He laughed a little, eyes fixed upward at the canyon walls and shrugged “I guess I’d rather be there than here.”  _

“I don’t...I don’t know..” you say softly

And the both of you hear the sound of someone approaching, Sarge looks at the two of you. His helmet is off and a grimace on his face as he stares off into the distance, like a soldier from an old twentieth century movie.

“Do you two ever wonder why we’re going through all this trouble just to find one guy?” He asks, eyes still fixated on the horizon. 

The both of you just stare at him and shrug. 

“Because he’s done a ton of illegal shit.” Grif says in a half joking manner.

And Sarge makes a noise that basically means ‘stop fucking around.’

“I don't know, but I don't know why it would matter, we don’t even know him.” You say. 

“You’re both technically right but have either of ever considered that even if he’s dead, we’re still going to be here.” 

“Sarge, are you alright?” Grif asks. 

Sarge turns to face the two of you, his hardened expression gone for one of sympathy,

“All I’m saying is we found our way back to the closest thing we have to a home and we manage to find Donut and Doc, do you think leaving and going out there to fight someone else’s fight is really the best idea?” 

And you have to agree you’d never really thought about that before.

“You actually make a good point.” Grif says and you never thought you’d hear him say those words in your life.

“Carolina wants us all to meet her down in the basement for mission planning.” He says, putting on his helmet. 

You both follow him, suddenly digesting the last few years. 

“Who exactly built this hologram room?” You hear Tucker’s words echo through the room.

“Lopez and i drew up the schematics and worked partially on it, in between Caboose putting Epsilon back together and Church disappearing again.”

You hear a soft ‘huh’ of acknowledgment form Tucker.

“Okay, listen up.” Carolina says, snapping both team’s attention to her.

“We know where the director is.” Church says, his AI avatar growing back to human size as he throws the files they’ve put together out for everyone to see.

“He’s on one of his personal offsite storage facilities, similar to the ones we’ve already been to, the only difference this time being that we don’t know what the security levels are going to be like…”

“So we need to go over the plan to get in.” Carolina says.

“Plan? What plan?!” Tucker protests.

“The plan to  _ kill  _ the director.” Church answers.

“I thought the plan was to help you find him?” Grif steps forward, and removes his helmet.

“And we found him.” You back him up. 

Carolina presumably focuses her gaze on all three of you, you can never tell considering the stunning lack of time she spends outside of her helmet. 

“The plan has changed.” she growls. 

“Then what is the plan?” Washington asks, his voice a little louder than normal, a little more firm and confident. 

“I’m going to Infiltrate the facility, neutralize all threats and take out the director.” Carolina replies to Washington and subsequently, the rest of you guys. 

“ So you want us to be bait? How is that going to work when you said we were the worst soldiers you’ve ever met?” Grif asks, the inflection of his voice giving away the irritation he’s feeling.

“I just need enough time to find the director.” Carolina says. 

“Yeah, so we’re a distraction.” Washington confirms, looking at Grif. 

“No,Washington, I need you to help me with locks.” Carolina corrects

“So we have to fight whoever might come at us, by ourselves.” Grif says, his knitted brow and gritted teeth giving away his anger. 

“Fuck! That!” Tucker shouts, stepping forward towards Carolina.

“Carolina, maybe I should stay with them…” Washington is really trying. 

“They’re MY team Washington, leave the decision making to me.” Carolina snaps.

“Will you all! Quit fucking complaining for once and do soemthing useful?!” Church, of all people, says, ending most of th fighting.

“We literally saved you from the military installation!” You shout at him “you’re the most ungrateful person, AI, whatever. We almost died a million times because of YOU and YOUR past!” 

Church turns to face you, his avatar moving towards you as his rant becomes indicative of not just you but even one else. 

“Oh, why don't you come back when you're on your second or third life; then we can talk about LIVES.” 

“Fuck off!” You hear Grif shout as he turns to leave. 

“Where are you going!?” Carolina yells after him and you’re left dumbstruck at the unraveling events. 

“Grif….?” you say quietly. 

“I’m going, home!” He shouts at her, and turns to look back at you, he hasn’t put his helmet back on so you can see every bit of expectans in his face. 

“It’s good to know we can always count on you to leave when there’s work to do!” Church says.

“You can count me out too.” You say, turning to follow him. 

“I have to agree with Simmons for once.” Sarge mumbles.

And you roll your eyes. 

“Let’s just go.” You say back at him. 

“Excuse me, what?” Carolina asks and Sarge turns to face her, both you and Grif stop in your tracks. 

“This mission, the two of you want us all to get involved with your personal revenge fantasy and I’m not putting my men’s lives at risk for this, any longer.” 

“Yeah, this is bullshit!” Tucker shouts at her and Church.

“Tucker, what the fuck?!” Church yells at him, sounding more betrayed than angry. 

“Listen! I’m done taking your bullshit orders! At least when Tex was around she didn’t expect us to do her dirty work!” Tucker shouts, the trembling in his voice very noticeable.

And all of you stand frozen as if you don’t have weapons yourself as Carolina aims her rifle at him, with her finger on the trigger. 

“How do you feel about leaving, now?” She asks, 

And in another act of surprise Washington aims his gun squarely at Carolina’s head. 

“Put your gun down, Carolina.” He says. 

You’re all gaping at the situation and your mind is buzzing with the insanity of it all that you barely hear what she says but you know it’s masked in rage and hurt. 

“I’ve been the cause of too many of  _ their  _ problems,” Washington looks at you, Grif and the Blues “I won’t let you or myself be the cause of any more.”

“What the fuck Washington!” You hear Church shout “we’re going to find the director and make him pay, just like  _ we  _ planed!”

“You and Caroline planned that. I want you both to leave, I will NOT be the cause of any more of their problems.” He swiftly removes his helmet, throwing it at Church’s feet “And Epsilon, you can have your helmet back.” 

Church’s avatar flashes a deep red for a moment and his voice booms throughout the room. 

“Leave it to a Freelancer like you to betray a teammate when they’re needed most.” 

Washington’s face hardens.

“I’m sick of your shit Church.” You say barely realizing the words have left your mouth. 

He turns to face you all, his avatar glowing red, causing the lights in the room to flicker 

“You know, I thought after ALL the bullshit you guys put me through, that you’d at least have my back when I actually needed it!” 

“What the fuck did we ever do to you!” You snap back at him, letting that familiar feeling of sheer rage build up in you, is it possible to kill an AI? 

“You shot me in the head!” His head turns to Caboose, “put a bomb in my GUT!” His glare flickers to Sarge “ and you killed me with my goddamn tank!” His avatar grows, causing the room to simulate a shaking motion

“What the fuck is your problem?! Calm down!” Tucker yells at him. 

“You are my problem!” Church shouts “You have ALWAYS been my problem! Each and every single one of you is just a problem I have to deal with on a daily basis!” 

And that’s your que to leave, exit stage left, fuck Church, fuck Carolina, no pardon or slim hope of not dying was worth their shit anymore.

No longer feeling fear or shame or guilt, you jog up to Grif and catch his hand in your, you and softly squeeze it and the two of you walk out of the basement and into the fading light of Valhalla. 

////////

You hate to admit it yourself, because you’ve never considered yourself “that kind of person” but when you and Simmons finally reconciled your positions in each other’s lives, it felt like a lot of your anger died. 

You never really realized that you were only taking it out in other ways, such as your constant distrust of Washington or unwarranted ‘hate’ of Donut. And in the end they both proved you to be the asshole. 

It wasn’t Washington ‘promising’ to keep the two of your secret, that he did keep or even the fact that he saved Simmons’ life that made you step back for a moment and think you might have been a little too harsh on him. 

It was him holding a gun to Carolina’s head and declaring out loud what you all have been feeling since Tex came to that shitty box canyon all those years ago; those freelancers did nothing but cause you all unnecessary trouble. But now they were gone, Church and Carolina and it felt like a veil had been lifted, a glass wall between Washington and the rest of you guys. 

And for you specifically, his actions had broken enough of that wall you had built up and not even Church’s temper tantrum could replace that missing piece.

You’d never look at these people the same again.

You didn’t actually think you’d be forced to face that fact, sitting here in another box canyon, stranded with no help in sight with Washington as the de facto leader, holding hands with quite possibly the love of your life, can you imagine the odds? 

But they had stacked up, in your favor. You and Richard Simmons, together for however long the universe allowed you two to continue to draw breath. But you’d never be happier anywhere else, with anyone else.

///

After everything that has happened in the last few years, after all the ways the military has failed you, from that fateful winter, to making you a permanent training dummy without your knowledge, right down to adopting an outdated conduct system, you never thought you or Grif could actually be pardoned the same people.

Of course you all ended up going to help Church and Carolina and of fucking course it was Tex you’d be fighting but with luck and apparently a starship crash, hopefully, they’ll stay gone and out of your lives forever.

That’s all you can hope for now. 

You look at Grif, your two hands joined, like a kiss you share more than every once in a while, you were never really soldiers, so why continue to pretend. 

“I love you.” You breathe into the air and it finds its way to him.

“I love you too.” He whispers back and it finds its way to you, like a kiss in another form. 

He gives your hand another soft squeeze and a melancholy smile drifts lazily on your lips. 

What did you do to get here? You ended up back in the same place you were before, a box canyon in the middle of nowhere. This time with a bit less regret in your stomach or exhaustion in your eyes. 

Except now this time, even with all that’s happened, you turn to face Grif, Dexter Grif and realize through the tiny flecks of green still lingering in his eye and the way he looks at you with them, that even now after all that had just happened, that maybe you’re just a little more human together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is a mostly satisfying ending and kind of cute ending lol i did use a bit of the original script for some of the parts in the basement, i don't own this, it is property of Rooster Teeth.


End file.
